Page 16 of Sparrow

“All those opposed?” Bowie asked out of formality. Each man had already voted, it was unanimous.

“Consider yourself brothers,” Monty said, and Bowie brought the gavel down.

“One more thing,” Bowie said, standing. All eyes went to him.

Without batting an eye, he pulled his 9mm and shot. Two loud pops made everyone jump. Some men covered their ears, others jerked away from the president.

The vice president flew back, his chair slamming against the table. Bowie had shot him clear in the head, and a club full of stunned expressions stared at their president for an explanation.

In most clubs, death at the hands of a member was something the club voted on—at least in Odin’s Fury. It’d been decided before they’d arrived in Ohio, the VP would die. Apparently, these members hadn’t been included in that vote.

“He’s been stealing from the club for years,” he said as he put the gun down on the table.

“Clark, here.” Monty waved and Clark shuffled closer. “Clark is going to take over as VP.”

It hadn’t been the plan for Bowie to take out the vice president, but it was probably best that way. His men would have more respect for their president if he took out the trash. Clark would have to make his bones another way. He’d earn their respect in time.

“Let’s go out to the fire, and get you all patched up,” Monty said to the room filled with stunned men still processing the change in leadership.

“Wait!” a voice called from the back corner.

All eyes went to him as he slowly shoved his way forward. The member patch on his left lapel was white, so he was one of the new ones Bowie had recently brought in. Romeo narrowed his eyes, he was familiar, but he couldn’t place him. Dirty blond hair, tattoos up and down his arms, disappearing under his shirt. Where had he seen him before?

Bowie slapped the gavel against the table. “Church is done. We got shit to do. Pipes…” He pointed the gavel at the man who’d just attempted to bring new business to the table. “Call the prospects to dump this trash.” His voice was laced with disgust as he bent down and pulled the man’s cut from his body. “And herd the girls out. Don’t need anyone witnessing its disposal. Any business you wanna bring to the table, we can discuss tomorrow.”

Pipes’ nostrils flared. Apparently, he wasn’t too thrilled with this plan. He hesitated before he gave a curt nod and headed out of the room. Romeo didn’t like the vibe of the new member. Glancing toward Clark, he saw the narrowed eyes of a skeptical man. Apparently, the new VP of Odin’s Fury Ohio Chapter felt the same way.

Chapter 10

Sparrow

Sitting at the bar, Sparrow twirled the lollipop in her mouth. The rough texture of the gum beneath the smooth candy met her tongue, so she worked on separating it from the stick. Unable to contain the anxiety, or was it excitement about her impending status change, she circled her foot at the ankle. Busying her mind, or so she thought, she surveyed those visiting the clubhouse.

A steady hum of chatting droned around her. Not that she could pay attention to a conversation if anyone started one. Her gaze kept finding its way to the door behind which her fate would be voted on. The prospect manning the bar, serving drinks to the hang arounds and club sluts, had already offered her a drink. It sat untouched behind her.

Shinedown’s Enemies played from the speakers while some men played darts. Others were conversing at tables, or on the couches. She needed to stop watching that door. A watched door never opened.

Though every time she looked away, one thing was clear. Women were everywhere. Not an Ol’ Lady in sight. The vibe within the clubhouse was vastly different from that of her youth.

With a sigh, she ran her fingers through her hair as she spotted her mother. Stepping out of the bathroom, pinching her nose and blinking several times, Dixie scanned the crowd. Her bleached hair was over treated, frizzy, and in a messy pile on her head. Her caked-on, overdone makeup was an attempt to appear youthful. She wore a cut off Roughneck Riders support t-shirt, cut off shorts, and black boots up to her mid-calves.

She smiled when she locked eyes on her daughter, and sashayed over. “Been a long time, little bird,” she said as she sidled up to her. “What brings you to the clubhouse?” she asked, canting her head.

Pulling the lollipop stick from her mouth, Sparrow lowered her eyes. Her mother was in a bad way, she had graduated from booze to something else. They hadn’t seen each other in months and hadn’t spoken to one another in just as long.

“Pipes,” she admitted. Here she was, on the verge of ascending to the highest status a woman could hold in the club, a status her mother had fallen from, and her stomach was in knots. It wasn’t that she thought anyone would deny Pipes’ claim, she just wasn’t sure she wanted it anymore. Jacob tugged at her mind far too much.

“The fresh patch?” Dixie queried.

Nodding, Sparrow faced her mother again. “He’s supposed to be claiming me. I’m going to be an Ol’ Lady.” She tried to sound excited about it. It’s what her mother had always wanted for her. Her father too.

Sparrow had wanted it to be closer to her dad. Though, she wasn’t sure her father would have chosen Pipes. At least, not the Pipes of today. He would’ve liked the Pipes she’d first met. Sometimes a girl has to make compromises.

Running her fingers through her straw-like strands of hair, Dixie tightened her lips together. Her gaze shifted to those enjoying the Roughneck Riders’ hospitality. When her mother didn’t speak, and only merely shifted her jaw left to right, Sparrow knew something was up.

“What?” she asked.

Sighing, her mother lowered her gaze to the floor and she opened her pink-stained lips to speak but nothing came out. Sparrow furrowed her brow, as this was very unlike her mother. When Dixie had an opinion, she let it fly. She never bit her tongue.

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