Page 135 of Steel

“Why didn’t she go to her brother? He’s got plenty of fucking money to protect her,” Crow asks from behind me.

I turn to face him so I can look him in the eye when I respond. “She doesn’t want him involved too much. After the shit they went through with their father, she said it’s been rough on him.He’d wrap her in a fuckin’ bubble, and Lee is too independent for that shit.”

“Lee?” he asks, his lip twitching.

Heat spreads over my face, and I grimace. “Shut the fuck up.”

When the quiet laughter flits around the room, I know we’re going to be okay. I might be on the shit list for a while, but they know I didn’t mean the club any harm by trying to protect them and Bailee. My posture loosens as the tension around the room breaks.

Once we quiet down, Wraith gets us back on track and steers the meeting toward Crow’s shit.

He questions him about whether his contact found any information on Baldy. According to Crow, they only found out that there were a couple cases throughout the U.S., but that none of them had solid evidence that link to any one suspect. Jagger explains to Wraith when he asks about Venezuela that they’re looking at all possibilities, but they’ve been unlucky so far. He does believe they’re getting close, which is at least something.

After that response, I can feel the weariness come from Wraith’s side of the table. When I glance over, he’s rubbing his hands over his face.

“Hope so,” he says. “All this shit is exhausting. Hell, I pulled us away from the hard shit and took us more legit so we’d get some calm between the chaos, but it’s been never-ending.”

Griz speaks up for the first time since Church started. “This life, you don’t really get a break, Pres. Been in a long damn time and I’ve yet to see any kind of peace. Not the kind you’re mentioning anyway. You did some good shit, kid. Took this club in the direction it needed to go. But you got to remember, there’s always going to be enemies. We just gotta make sure when we go to war, we’re going for the right reasons. Because when there’s war, there’s also loss of life. This club has already been hit hard once this year with Bozo.”

Wraith peers over at him, studying his face. “You think this is the right reason?”

“A woman is in trouble because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Doesn’t mean she needs to lose her life over it. We’ve always been about the innocent, especially when it’s women and children. Sounds like this Bailee needs her a bit of protection from the Dirty Mavericks.”

I blow out a breath when Wraith nods at Griz’s wise words. “I’ll bring her in tomorrow.”

“Right. Next item on the agenda.” He looks straight at me, and this is when my tension comes back. “What do you think we should do to you? You know we don’t want to do this, but brother, what you did . . . we can’t just let it go.”

“Told you, do what you feel you have to do. Know I fucked up, but wasn’t doin’ anything none of you all wouldn’t do for the women you care about. You need to demote me, I’ll cut off my patch right now. Don’t wanna, but it’s what I’ll do to appease you. Want my colors? Fuckin’ guts me, but I’ll do it if you need.”

Wraith tilts his head, studying me before coming to some sort of decision. “All in favor of demotion?” Vote goes around the table with a unanimous nay. “All in favor of a three-month probationary period for stripping rank?” This vote comes out in a unanimous yay. “All in favor of stripping colors?” Again, the vote lands unanimously with nay. “I want more than probation. Suggestions, brothers?”

“Let’s take him to Court,” Thrasher, our SAA, suggests.

Motherfucker.

So much for going home and fucking my woman into oblivion tonight.

Court consists of a member getting in the “ring” with chosen members of the club for however long the vote deems necessary. The members being taken to court go through a pyramid setup that’s voted upon. The first round, you have to face a prospect.This allows us to see which of them have the stomach and the skill to hack it as a Dirty Maverick. In the second round, you face a non-officer member. If you make it through those two rounds, it’s the last round where you take your fucking beating. You have to step in and face three officers. The officers vary, and it’s always voted upon. Death isn’t allowed, so some caution has to be taken, but there have been times when Blade and Phantom, along with Kiwi, have had to do some work, depending upon the severity of the offense. It’s vicious, but it gives the club another option for punishment other than demotion, stripping colors, or banishment from the club and all their owned establishments.

Bailee is going to be so pissed.

“All in favor of taking Steel to Court?” Wraith asks, and this time, the vote is a unanimous yay. Wraith glances at me and fucking smirks, gleeful satisfaction in his eyes. “It’s time to serve your sentence, brother.”

“How long am I serving?” I ask with a sigh, needing to know how sore I’m gonna be later.

“All three rounds will last two minutes per juror. You have the choice of facing them individually or together,” he says.

“Who are my jurors?”

I know whoever they choose, I’m going to be in a world of fucking trouble because my brothers need me to feel their pain for not coming to them.

“First round, your juror is Prospect Keaton.”

That crazy-ass fucking prospect. Keaton reminds me too much of Phantom and Blade. He’s got that killer instinct, and I’ve seen him in a brawl or two . . . fucking lethal.

Dammit.

“Round two, your jurors are Gremlin and Jagger.”

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