Page 30 of Downward Dawg
With their fingers joined over her breast, he cradled her to him until they both fell asleep.
Chapter Nine
Mad Dawg
Standing behind the bar at the clubhouse, Mad Dawg loaded up the surface with beers drawn from the cooler underneath. Service to the club didn’t stop when any of the members put the full club patch on their back. This was just one way he could give back to his brothers.
Tinder leaned his arms on the edge of the bar, reaching for one of the opened bottles. “Thanks, my brother.” He tipped the bottle Mad Dawg’s direction, then lifted it and took a long drink. “Good to see you, man. Glad everything’s cool.”
“Is it? Cool? Are they going to be a problem again?” He couldn’t stop the questions, because while he’d been reassured via text over the days since Ella’s kidnapping went down, no one would give him direct answers to what he wanted to know.
“Hold it for the meeting, brother. You know we’ve got your back, and that means we’ve got the back of your lady, too.” Tinder tsked. “Won’t let anything happen to her, ever again. Should know that.”
“I do.” He opened another few beers, then left his post, circling around the end of the bar so he could pull Tinder into a one-armed clinch. “I do, Prez, but damn, would it hurt you to let a man know what happened in detail?”
“Did you ever think maybe the detail wasn’t for everyone to know?” Tinder pulled away and took another deep drink. “And keep it for the meeting, when we’ve got a handle on who’s in the loop.”
“Okay, okay.” He grumbled his agreement. “It’s just been fuckin’ with my head.”
Since the night he and Ella had talked through her past, Mad Dawg hadn’t been able to shake the feeling another shoe was about to drop. Something in the air, maybe, but as she’d said more than once, like her, he liked to follow his gut. There’d been nothing on the security videos, because while Denver had reviewed each of them, so had Mad Dawg.Just to be sure nothing was missed.Not that he thought his brothers would do anything intentionally, but they didn’t have a dog in the hunt like he did.
“Well, the news I have should unfuck your head pretty good.” Tinder lifted a hand to his mouth and whistled around two fingers. “Hangarounds and prospects, you’re dismissed. Be back next weekend, but in the meantime, vamoose.”
“Mad Dawg.” He turned to see Rocker walking his direction. “Well met, brother.”
Pulling in Rocker for a back-pounding hug, he sighed. “Well met, man. Good to see you.”
“Tinder tell you the news yet?” Mad Dawg pushed back to stare at him. “Guess not. Come on. This oughta be good."
“Be good?” Mad Dawg moved when Rocker shoved at his shoulder, preceding him into the meeting room. “What does that mean? Last time you found something amusing, I wound up with a patch I never expected.”
“That was good too. Stop your whining. Baby.” Rocker pulled a chair away from the table, spinning it and sitting with his arms folded on the back of the chair. “Big ole baby.”
“You need to work on your insults, brother.” Mad Dawg matched his position, feet planted securely on each side of the seat. “Lame-o.”
“I’ll show you lame-o.” Rocker folded a hand into a fist. “Pow, right in the kisser.”
“Jesus, you’re in a good mood.” Denver took a seat next to Rocker, leaning back on two legs. “Can’t stand it when you’re like this.”
“You fuckin’ love me and you know it.” Rocker leaned closer and planted a wet kiss against Denver’s cheek. “There, that should hold you over.”
“Everyone loves you, man.” Denver grinned at Mad Dawg around Rocker. “He’s a shithead, ain’t he?”
“Most days.” Mad Dawg agreed, then looked towards Tinder when the man pounded the gavel against the table. “Guess we’re done talkin’. Fuckin’ finally.”
“Okay, first piece of business is Denver’s update on the HHMC. Tell us all about it, brother.” Tinder sat back in his chair, angling his jaw towards the ceiling in a listening pose.
The legs of Denver’s chair thumped against the floor and scraped as he pushed it back, standing. He shot Mad Dawg a glance, then looked around the room. “HHMC are no more. Well, they won’t be in another week. We’re killing the club and patching the few good men as Maniacs. Leadership fled south, every fuckin’ one of them. Seems most of the rank and file didn’t like how the club was being run and were about to revolt when one of the stupider of the fuckers got the idea of takin’ Mad Dawg’s Ella. We dealt with the ones directly involved, which sparked the geographic withdrawal. Me and Tinder have been over there more than we’ve been home, and those assholes leaving isn’t a bad thing. Pullin’ in the decent ones left gives us another chapter to wrangle, but they’ve got some good men in the mix. We’ve found a few we trust, and they’re giving guidance on who to keep and who to cut. But”—he turned and looked at Mad Dawg with a drawn expression on his face—“that means we need to minimize those who will be in leadership positions. Since the clubhouse is situated closest to Mad Dawg, I propose we find another nomad president, and shift his rocker to a territory. Makes the most sense, but we’ll need a majority agreement. Not something that can be pushed through.”
“Unlike the president position before?” Mad Dawg shook his head. “You expect me to make nice with the motherfuckers who bloodied and bruised my lady?”
“No.” Tinder’s voice was clipped as he slapped a hand against the table. “Those assholes have been eliminated, brother. As in no longer walkin’ and breathin’. We’ve got Ella’s back, man. We do. These men didn’t have a fuckin’ thing to do with that action. In fact, they’re as disgusted as we are by what happened. They want better for their chapter, their members. They’re goddamned loyal to each other, but recognize the club wasn’t loyal to them. We’re only keepin’ the cream of the crop. Everyone else will have to earn their patch back if they want it, but when they do they’ll do it our way, not by buyin’ shit.”
He stared at Tinder for a breath, then sighed and dropped his chin. “I trust you, brother.” He had to firm his lips against the emotion threatening to swamp him. “I apologize if my words made it sound like I didn’t. I know you’ve got my back, every step of the way.” He lifted his head and glanced around the room. “And I wanna say this out loud. I trust every one of you. I fuckin’ do. Thank you, all of you, for keepin’ my old lady safe. My Ella. She means… everything.”
“We know.” Rocker slapped his shoulder. “It’s been something to watch, seein’ the big, bad Mad Dawg taken down by an itty-bitty slip of a woman. Good to see, and we’ll do anything needed to keep you and her on this side of goodness.”
“What he said,” Tinder quipped, and a ripple of chuckles moved around the room. “Now, since Mad Dawg’s accepted the challenge we’ve put in front of him, we’ve got lots of logistics to work out. Next meeting, we’ll do the patching and get you all acquainted. Once Dawg’s got his arms wrapped around it all.”
