Page 4 of Protective Biker
He shakes his head. “They’re keeping their voices down, so I wasn’t able to overhear much. I managed to catch one of them saying they want a roll call on which members were here tonight, and any others currently in the state of Texas. I couldn’t hear anything else,” he offers and shrugs his shoulders.
I hope Raven got out. Although if they’re asking which members are here, well, it’s probably MC-related, and everyoneinside will be left alone. Hopefully. Still grinds my fucking gears they yanked us out of the bar like they did.
The guy who cuffed me walks by, checking on us. I ask him, “Bro, will you go get my cake from inside? I don’t want them to toss it.” He speaks to the female officer, then disappears, entering the building.
After a few minutes, the guy thankfully returns with my cake. “The cake box was gone, but I snagged one from the bar.”
“Hey, thanks. I appreciate it.”
He nods, setting the box beside me before walking back over to the group of officers speaking to our club’s lawyer.
Eventually, we’re told nothing. They stick Ripper, still cuffed, in the back of a blacked-out sedan while releasing the rest of us. We watch as the car drives away, our Prez stuck in the back for who knows what.
“Blow, anything?” I ask again since the authorities are clearing out. His ol’ lady has left as well, offering Prez’s woman a ride home. She’ll probably get her car and then head straight to the station to wait for Prez to either be booked or released.
“Not sure, everyone’s keeping their mouths shut. My woman didn’t find out much, just that they’re searching for a member.” He glances around before mumbling, “One who doesn’t belong to this chapter.”
“Fuck.”
“Yep. She said we should hear an update from the lawyer soon and hopefully have more info.”
“You headed home or back to the clubhouse?”
“The MC first.” He then directs his attention to everyone still standing around. “Load up. Everyone back to the clubhouse for Church!” He orders, and we follow suit.
I manage to secure my box of cake to my motorcycle with some bungee cords and load up, taking my place as we all finally get on the road to head back home. We’d been stuck outside fora few hours while they questioned everyone and made up their minds on what to do, so everyone’s pretty good to ride at this point. I’d never ride my bike trashed, and I like to think my brothers wouldn’t either. Plague probably would have, but that was before he met his woman. They’re behind me, all snuggled up together as they follow us to the clubhouse, along with Angel, Wrench, Richardson, and the prospects. Luckily, Baker kept his ass home; he’s been out on parole a while now, so the strip club was the last place he needed to be tonight.
The ride is short and bittersweet as it’s hard to enjoy it when we don’t know what the hell is happening right now. We pull in to the clubhouse, backing in our bikes as one. Once our engines are off, we head straight inside. Plague’s woman goes to their room, and we head into Church.
Blow takes the gavel in hand, slamming it to the table once Baker’s joined us. He’s clearly lost, probably only getting a quick text from Whiskey that shit has hit the fan. I’m proven right when he asks Blow what the hell is going on.
“The only thing I know is they were looking for a member from another charter. The person is accused of murdering multiple people and on the run.”
“Who is it?”
He meets my gaze, “We don’t know, the cops won’t say. My ol’ lady is being stonewalled on this too, so she doesn’t have shit on the case either.”
Angel grumbles, “Fuck. How can they pull everyone out and not say shit? It has to be a violation of something.”
Blow continues, “Apparently, the FEDS are building a case against someone in the main chapter from the bits and pieces we’ve all managed to put together.”
“Not surprising,” I mutter.
“So sick of this shit,” Whiskey comments.
Baker nods, “Agreed. Now we’re taking heat for members who aren’t in the same state, let alone in our chapter?”
Richardson speaks up, “They could be trying to build a RICO case. If so, everyone is fucked.”
“There has to be a way out of this.”
He nods, meeting my stare. “Oh, there is. None of you is going to like what I have to say, but I’m going to put it on the table anyhow. If they’re forming a RICO case, they’re looking to take down the entire club. Think of it as an organization, you don’t go after one store, you hit headquarters and then umbrella the effect down. We can possibly escape it, but we would have to make some moves now.”
Everyone’s attention is trained on Richardson as Blow asks, “What moves?”
“We could cut ties and create our own club. Have no association with the other MC, but it could leave us vulnerable. Not only to them, attempting to take us out as retribution, but for the FEDS, thinking we’re pulling a fast one. They could still link us if the timing is right. The best bet we’d have would either be to dismantle the club completely and everyone go their separate ways, or else patch over to a different MC. We could claim bad blood and cutting ties to go legit with another club, depending on their reputation.”
Angel, Blow, and I all trade looks, and I know we’re thinking the exact same thing. Ripper has been talking about possibly patching over for a while now. We’ve voted on it before and as a club, agreed to patch over. We haven’t made the move yet, though, as Ripper’s been working out the details and speaking to different chapter presidents of the other club.
