Page 13 of Blood & Ash

Our lives.

The legacy our father’s built.

We do this for them.

For the club.

Chapter Six

Entering this room without seeing my father seated at the head of the table should break me, but I’m built stronger than that. He raised me to be tough and never back down from a fight. I stare at his empty chair, knowing I can’t hesitate to claim it. My hands rest on the back of Pop’s chair, the old leather worn with years of love and battle scars from club fights. I allow myself a moment to remember him, the man who taught me everything I know about being in a brotherhood, about leading, about survival, and loyalty. I can’t focus on the betrayal of him fucking Shelby behind my back, but I can let it fuel me. Inhaling a deep breath, I release it as I take my seat at the head of the table, sitting where he did countless times, prepared to lead.

I’ve got no other choice than to continue what he started.

To be the man he raised me to be.

I claim his gavel, and a shiver passes over me.

I’m not ready for this.

But these men expect nothing less.

I can step into my father’s boots and ride or die.

I can’t afford to show any signs of weakness.

“Everyone,” I begin, my voice steady over the quiet murmurings in the room, “we’ve got a situation. A big one. I know you’re all angry and want answers. I want that more than you know. Sadly, this was no tragic accident. It was an attack on the club.”

A collective roar of anger sounds around the room as I relay what Goose and I discovered at Marty’s office, as well as our suspicions about Shelby and how this plot seems to be much bigger than we initially thought. Their faces are etched with disbelief and rage. Nods and rumblings of agreement ripple around the table when I suggest we need to take action tonight.

The conversation is an eruption of chaos.

Goose is at my side, calming the storm they all want to unleash, his unwavering support grounding me during this moment of validation that this club needs me to lead them. He adds his own piece about his father, Eightball. Anyone who ever knew him was aware of his struggles with addiction.

Shelby knew enough, but someone put this whole thing in motion.

“I say we kill this bitch,” Slasher says.

“I don’t disagree, but we need to know who is pulling the strings. This situation with her is complicated. She’s claiming she’s pregnant. Says the baby belongs to my father.”

“Convenient,” Shack mutters.

He’s not wrong.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I begin, once the room has quieted enough for me to be heard. “We divide and conquer. We’ll split into groups. I’ll nab Shelby. Poe and Goose will grab Marty. Rook and Combat will go on the hunt for Randy’s sons. We need to find out exactly what they know. Someone has declared war on us.”

A chorus of grunts fills the room as they agree. Every man in this room is ready to ride or die. We all know the consequences if we fail. Our club, our family, and our lives are on the line.

“We need answers,” I continue. “And we need them fast. But remember, this club is about brotherhood, about family. No matter what happens, we look out for each other. We have each other’s backs. Nobody fucks with us and walks away breathing.”

The solemn nodding around the room reassures me that they hold the same values close to their hearts. We are a brotherhood. Protective and fierce. It’s us against the world. No one is going to take what’s ours or destroy what my father built. We’ll stop them or die trying.

“Get geared up,” I command, standing from my seat at the head of the table. I bang the gavel on the table, signaling the end of church. We’ve gotta do this tonight. The wake is the perfect cover. The best alibi we’ve got should anything go south.

We need everything to go smoothly.

Once everyone has their orders, the men disperse to prepare. Goose hangs back, waiting until it’s just the two of us.

“We’re really doing this, huh?” he asks, his voice heavy.

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