Page 9 of Inglorious
“Never expected to see him here again,” Razor muttered.
“Vortex never planned to return either. But he’s here. Relax. Do you need anything?”
“Sleep. I’ve been stressing about everything, and this shit is kicking my ass, girl. The clubhouse is a shithole, and I don’t have the energy to clean it or handle the prospects. They’ve been running riot since…” Razor broke off.
“Relax, Razor, we’re here now.”
“For how long?” Razor asked.
“Yeah, Nanci, what’s the plan?” Vortex demanded as he approached and kicked Party in the ribs.
I chewed my lip as I gazed at Inglorious.
“I’m taking President. You’re VP, Vortex. I’d make you VP Razor, but you don’t need the grief. However, you’re now Chaplin, but you’re suspended from duties. We’re going to rebuild Unwanted Bastards. Those who died deserve a better memorial than this. Our first job is cleaning this fuckin’ shithole up.”
“We couldn’t clean it and run the businesses,” Moon said defensively. “Either King or I checked on them each day while one of us stayed with Chill and Inglorious.”
“That ends today. Vortex and I will handle that. You’ll return to normal prospect duties. As soon as Inglorious and Chill are sober, we’ll have a reckoning.”
“What are you planning?” Vortex asked, staring down at the now unconscious Inglorious.
I grinned nastily. “Throw him in the cells—and Chill too. They can go cold turkey. Razor, put a call in to Doc Paul. Tell Doc I need him and inform him he has to come.”
“Doc Paul?”
“His father was Crazy Dan, who rode with the War Hammers. Crazy Dan’s nephew was Snake. Doc Paul is Snake’s cousin and a Legacy,” I replied.
“How the hell do you know that?” Razor demanded.
“I paid attention,” I quipped and looked up as Moon came back in from kicking Party off the premises.
“Okay, prospect, help me drag the drunken asshole to the cells,” Vortex said with a dark look at Inglorious.
Together, they grabbed hold of Inglorious and dragged him out. Vortex was none too gentle, and I couldn’t blame him. There were bad feelings between Vortex and Inglorious. Which was why it was a damn miracle Vortex had returned. And I knew he’d only done it for me.
“Doc Paul is on his way, and he’s bringing supplies,” Razor announced, ending his call.
“Okay, time to make a plan,” I mused, trying to find somewhere clean to sit. I sighed and swept everything off a chair, and Razor snorted. “Shit, I hope we’ve got cleaning stuff.”
“Should have,” Razor muttered. His eyes were closing, and I let sleep overtake him. When Vortex and Moon returned, I motioned to Razor, and they nodded.
Instead of confronting Gamer and waking Razor, I headed to Inglorious’s office and wrinkled my nose. It was as much of a pigsty as the common room. Empty bottles were piled high, and there were mouldy food containers; the smell made me gag. Luckily, there was a window, and I threw it open and let the air in.
Exiting swiftly, I nearly ran for the supply closet. Inside I found trash bags, cleaning supplies, brooms, and a mop and bucket. First things first, clean the office. The stench made that workspace unusable. This was not what I imagined finding, but I’d deal with it.
I’d filled two bags when the door open, and a chubby, pockmarked face belonging to a scruffy man walked in.
“Who the fuck are you? Who gave you the authority to call me?”
“Guess you’re Gamer.” I straightened. “And I’m your new president.”
“Yeah, Inglorious is that.”
“Not anymore. Inglorious is incapable of doing his duties, and I’ve taken over,” I replied calmly.
“That won’t work for me,” Gamer stated.
“What won’t?”
