Page 59 of Red's Peril: Part 1

Titch meets his eyes. “Honestly? No.”

“Anyone want to speak for them?” Brick asks.

“Who can?” Twister challenges. “Neither have been pulling their weight for a while. Half the time, they’re stoned out of their minds.”

“So, they’re out. That’s the vote, Brothers.”

As if they’ve realised the decision has to be made, again, every vote is an aye. At the end, Brick stares my way with a wry look in his eyes.

“Seems you’ve made us face up to the shit that’s invaded the club. I thank you for that, Brother.”

Some of the glances sent my way suggest not everyone is so grateful, but that still leaves one thing on my mind.

Wanting to get on to something positive, I ask another question. “How are the prospects coming along? Either of them close to getting their patch?”

“You’re suggesting we should build up our ranks?” Rainman raises his chin toward me.

“Only if they’re a good fit,” I clarify.

Twister replies, “I got no problems with Josh except he can be a bit of an asshole. Shadow needs longer, he’s only been here a few months.”

“I got two hangarounds who come to the auto-shop,” Titch remarks. “Strange guys, but solid. Spend their off time in a BDSM club.”

Keys snorts. “They’ll have us converting the basement to a fuckin’ dungeon.”

“And that would be bad?” Indian’s got a glint in his eye.

Hammer snorts.

Brick’s shaking his head, but grinning. “Feel them out, Titch. See if they’re up for prospecting. Tell them to come around the club to see what we’re about. But Red’s asked a question and I’d like an answer to it. Are we ready to patch Josh in?”

“I like the man, he’s solid. Apart from those lame jokes of his.” Rainman dips his chin up and down.

“I’m an ‘aye’,” Fox says.

“I’d vote yes, with the suggestion we give him the road name, Joker.” Indian’s grinning. His suggestion raises a few laughs, and no one offers an alternative.

“Okay, let’s vote.”

At Brick’s suggestion, it goes around the table. When I’m asked, I truthfully reply, “I barely know the man, so going by the rest of you, I’ll vote, aye.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“You made your mark.” Rainman raises a glass my way that evening after church.

I’ve spent the day touring around the various businesses. The auto-shop is good, well positioned, but could do with some updated equipment. Titch is old-school, failing to recognise cars and bikes are increasingly being driven with electronics. To give him his due, the old biker seemed interested when I’d pointed it out and had given me the go ahead to have a word with Keys on my return about getting the computer shit updated, and purchasing diagnostic equipment.

The strip club, well, what can I say? Lacklustre and rundown. If it wasn’t dead cheap to enter, it would probably get no patrons. The pawn shop was exactly what I’d expected and seems to be running just fine. I’d even stopped off at the locked-up tattoo parlour. The location was good, but no other brother had inking experience. I wondered whether we could tempt an artist to work for the club and decided to raise my idea at the table.

Keys’ security business interested me the most. He’s a whizz with alarms and cameras, and had a growing clientele. The only room for improvement was bringing other brothers in on what he was doing. He’d tended to play it close to his chest, but I thought he’d benefit from help in some quarters.

It was obvious all the legit businesses had to be beefed up to make up for the loss in other income.

I realise Rainman is waiting for me to address his statement. “Have I?” I belatedly answer the VP.

“Well, for a start, you forced us to address the situation. In one meeting, the club lost three members and gained one.” He grins as if that wasn’t unwelcome. “Then those observations about the businesses are spot-on. Do you know just how fuckin’ tactful you had to have been to make Titch consider changes? The old guy’s never wanted to move on, despite what we’ve been telling him. In one fuckin’ day, you got him to agree to computerisation.”

Despite our clashes in the meeting, I’d gotten on with Titch on his home turf, probably as we spoke the same language. He had been impressed with the rebuild on my bike and understood why I didn’t want to part with it.

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