Page 16 of Deserter

Wolverine chuckled and shook his head. “You always want to go for the obvious, don’t you? Use your fuckin’ head, son. Why Jean Grey?”

It had been a couple of years since I’d picked up a comic. My time had been better spent finding different and more creative ways of drawing blood.

I wracked my brain to remember Jean’s storyline. There had been her stint as Marvel Girl, but nothing really stood out, other than her having telekinetic and telepathic powers.

“Wasn’t she a good girl? Always caring about the other mutants or some weak shit?” That was nothing like me. Sure, I wanted to keep my brothers alive and kicking, but that took a backseat to looking out for myself.

Wolverine exhaled a cloud of smoke and shook his head. “Damn, son, I’m disappointed. You used to know everything there was to know when it came to comics. If you still did, you’d know that Jean died—”

“Great. So, I’ll forever be known as the enforcer named after a dead female mutant—”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth and let me finish, goddammit. When I first met you, you were this scared little boy, obsessed with looking out for your mama. Jean Grey first realized her powers after watching her childhood friend get hit by a car.

“The night you took out your old man, that scared little boy died and was reborn as a man. Jean Grey operated as Marvel Girl until she was exposed to fatal levels of radiation. She died, but was reborn as Phoenix, fully unleashing her true potential. In my opinion, she became one of the most powerful, not to mention deadliest, mutants.”

I let his words sink in. Whatever had been awakened in me the night I first killed had never fully gone away. It was like when a dog got a taste of blood and was never the same again. I’d spent the first part of my life trying to be a protector, only to fail when it had mattered most.

When I finally came clean to Wolverine about what I’d felt as my old man struggled underneath me, he’d helped me harness that need into a skill. A skill that I had used for the club more times than I could count.

“So, I’m Jean now?” I finally asked with narrowed eyes.

He returned my glare with one of his own. “You keep mouthing off like you’ve been and you just might be. Otherwise, I was thinking something more along the lines of Grey. How’s that strike you, princess?”

Grey.

I liked it.

It was better than what John had been saddled with—Slim. Not because of his weight, but because the chances of him missing a shot were slim. The guy was an excellent marksman, but I knew he hated having to explain how he got his road name to everybody we met on runs.

I used to joke that his name was a reminder to the club whores of what their chances were with him. He’d been right; Lou was it for him. He didn’t give any of the other girls a second glance; which was a fucking shame because club whores were a damn good time.

“It’s not a bad name,” I admitted. “I have to say, I thought you’d lost your goddamn mind at first.”

The needle dug into the sensitive flesh near my spine and I fought the urge to groan in pleasure. I loved pain, both inflicting and receiving.

If I’d let him live, I was sure my old man would’ve gotten a kick out of the fact that I now sought out abuse when I’d cowered and hid from it with him.

Wolverine rolled another joint and lit up. “I wanted to talk to you away from the club about something else. As you know I’m not only the chapter Pres, but the national one as well. I’ve kept our club in line since it began expanding. Any murders we’ve committed have stayed under the radar or we’ve paid off the appropriate people to keep it from ever seeing the inside of a fuckin’ courthouse.”

The gun stopped buzzing as the tattoo artist, Dagger, inspected his handiwork.

Wolverine waited until it fired back up before continuing. “The trouble is, the new police chief don’t like us running things. I can’t take a shit now without him wanting to add it to my jacket. He got it in his head that we’re going to go after his wife and daughters—raping and pillaging like we’re fuckin’ Vikings. My guy told me that they’re planning to hit me and a few others with conspiracy charges.

“So, I’m pulling every chapter down here to send a message to the new chief. Don’t fuck with Silent Phoenix. If this shit goes south and the charges stick, I need you to be ready to step up.”

If I hadn’t had a needle pressed up against my skin, I would’ve stood up and started pacing the room. “Me? I’m just an enforcer. Why not Dragon? He’s the VP.”

“You’re the National Enforcer, don’t sell yourself short. And settle your ass down, I’m not handing over the Crown Jewels. Dragon will act as Pres should something happen to me, but in the meantime, it’s time for you to take on more responsibility.”

“Can’t you ask one of your original guys?”

He leaned forward until his elbows were resting on his knees. “I didn’t choose your road name on a whim. It was presented and voted on by the club. Ain’t that clicked yet? I’ve seen some impressive shit with you and there will be a day when you’re ready to become this club and wipe out any motherfucker who crosses you.”

* * *

I poured another shot of tequila with unsteady hands, sending most of it spilling onto the bar top.

Become the club?

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