Page 5 of Patching Over

I watch as brothers who aren’t used to snow ass around, making and flinging snowballs at one another. “Brick?” Brew asks, coming alongside me. “Got the garage open for any of the brothers to pull their rides out of the elements.”

Banshee lets out an ear-piercing whistle, silencing all the fucking around my brothers are doing, and states, “Since this weather was unexpected, we’ve got a place for your rides, just follow Brew. Otherwise, I’d suggest you tarp your bikes, brothers.”

Almost as if everyone’s been together all their lives, I watch the prospects who came from the other chapters start tarping some of the bikes, while a few of the brothers crank their rides up and head to the garage.

I watch the ones who have moved their bikes go back to assing around in the snow, then start chuckling when I see that one of my guys has built a pretty decent sized snowman next to the door, complete with a ‘Prospect’ cut that says ‘Snow’ on it. “Where the fuck did you get one of those?” I finally ask once I can catch my breath.

“Brew had it made, Pres,” Jingles states. “He’s obviously never going to patch in, but we all thought it’d be funny as hell seeing as we get snow like we do.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a good laugh.”

Scorn lets out a whistle then yells, “Need all the Roanoke Prospects in the clubhousenow.”

Ah hell, either Jameson’s not amused by our fair-weather prospect, or it’s showtime.

Thirty minutes later, with all of my brothers and me doing our best not to grin from ear to ear, we’re officially proclaimed Royal Bastards. Looks like we’ve all got some sewing to do, since we got our bottom rockers, plus our name patch and if we’re an officer, our position patches. As the beer and whiskey continue to flow, I find myself sitting with Jameson and Scorn, as well as Banshee and Rainman.

“You’ll get that info when we get back home,” Scorn advises Rainman. “It’ll be easy to set up an automatic transfer every month, that way it doesn’t get forgotten if shit’s going sideways, you know?”

I’m glad they’re covering some of this shit. While the buck technically stops at my doorstep, the brothers I’ve put in position know their shit so they’re better served asking the questions so they can appropriately handle the club’s shit.

“Yeah, I prefer doing autopay when possible since we’ve always got money coming in from the businesses. One more won’t make much difference. Dues stay here in our chapter, correct?”

“Yeah,” Jameson states.

“Jameson, wanted to see if we could get in on the new guns y’all are running. We’ve had some interest shown from some contacts we’ve worked with previously, but I haven’t let them know one way or another if we can assist them with their needs,” I say during a lull in the conversation.

“Get me the numbers and we’ll talk,” he replies before throwing back a shot. “Just wanted to say, really like the legacy wall you guys put together. Shows the kind of club you’ve always been and now, you’ve got the whole of the Royal Bastards behind you.”

“Appreciate it. My dad wanted something to reflect where the club started from, plus he wanted to be able to honor the brothers lost along the way. The guys and I felt that with this transition to the Royal Bastards, our old cuts needed to be up there as well. I’m sure someone will get a group photo to put up now that we’ve got our new cuts and shit,” I say.

Just before he can say anything else, the clubhouse door flies open with the Ankeny, IA chapter rushing through, Voodoo at the front of them.

“Brother, we need to talk, but we’ve gotta go. Now.

CHAPTER

THREE

Brick

Once everyone sees that there’s no immediate threat, the guns that came flying out are tucked away as I focus on Voodoo. “Where do we have to go?” I’m wondering if I can legally drive, but then realize it doesn’t matter, if someone’s in danger or needs help, my brothers and I will go one way or another.

“Your ol’ lady needs you.”

Having just taken a sip of my beer, I feel it spewing across the table at his words. “I’m sorry, what the fuck did you just say?” Maybe I drank more than I thought. Because I could swear he just said…

“Your ol’ lady needs you,” he states.

“Brother, no offense, but I don’thavean ol’ lady,” I retort.

“I’ll fill you in, Brick, but no fucking lie, we gotta go. She’s in danger.”

Shrugging, I stand while looking at Banshee. “I got it, Brother,” he says in response to me. We’ve been together so long, he knows what I’m asking for without me uttering thewords. “May wanna take a few brothers just to be on the safe side, especially if there’s danger involved.”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” Venom advises. “We don’t know the area and with that fucking wet shit coming from the sky, gonna need cages.” He growls out that word as I hide my smirk. We’re used to snow, so most of us have trucks equipped to deal with the uncertainty of living in the mountains.

“Gotta go, Brick,” Voodoo says, his voice conveying an urgency that has increased since he first spoke.

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