Page 20 of Property of Max
Crusher shrugs, but his eyes are sharp. “Not interested. Got music here, got family here. Don’t see a reason to trade it for sand and cactus.”
Tank leans forward, his voice low but firm. “I’ll help get it on its feet, make sure the brothers know what they’re doing. But I ain’t leaving Palm Springs for good. This is home.”
Maverick smirks faintly, arms crossed. “Ain’t joining your club, Spike.”
All eyes land on me, the last one left. My throat’s tight, but I force the words out. “No thanks. I barely feel like I belong here. I’m not about to run a chapter somewhere else.”
Spike’s lips twitch into a grim smile, like he expected nothing less.
“Then it’s settled,” Spike says firmly. “Tank will help them get started, and Max will become our Regional Commander.”
“What about the prospects?” I ask before I can stop myself.
The thought of giving that up twists in my gut. I’ve always liked bringing in new blood, training them, watching them earn their patch.
“Can’t do both?” Skip smirks, leaning forward on his elbows. “Is our widdle Maxipoo too overwhelmed?”
“Were you dropped on your head as a kid?” I shoot back.
“Most definitely,” Skip grins. “By my dad. Man was bigger than I am.”
I snort. Skip’s damn near the size of Tank…broad, muscled, built like he could break steel with his bare hands. But his wild, smartass personality makes him come across like some small, annoying twink that won’t stop yapping.
“The prospects will still be your responsibility,” Spike says. “What about your tattoo shop? Still got Mike running it?”
“Yeah,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “Not sure if it’s something I want back into or not.”
Spike nods, glancing down at his phone. A grin cracks his face. “Looks like my son’s cranky and wants his daddy.”
Even with all the weight in this room, that grin softens it. Just a man, a father, eager to get back to his boy.
“Max, I want a meeting between all chapter leaders tomorrow. Have them meet here at the compound.”
“Who’s taking over for Runner?” I ask.
“That’s up to you,Regional Commander,” he smirks. “I don’t give a fuck who you choose, because I know you’ll pick the right man.”
No pressure. None at all.
“Alright, go home, brothers. See you tomorrow.”
Chapter Eight
Lila
“Mama, can I sleep with Uncle Micah tonight?” Bree asks the second she walks in the door from school, her backpack half sliding off one shoulder.
“Hey, honey,” I say, smiling as I take her in. “How was school?”
“Boring,” she sighs dramatically. “Michelle told the teacher I stole her pencil. But I didn’t. Promise. It rolled off her desk, and I just picked it up to give it back. She’s a total butt sometimes.”
“Bree, don’t call people butts,” I warn gently, biting back a smile. “It’s not nice. You wouldn’t want someone to call you names, would you?”
“I suppose not,” she mutters, toe scuffing the floor. Then she brightens. “But that doesn’t change the fact that Michelleismean. Anyway, back to my very important question. Can I sleep with Micah?”
“You know you can’t sleep in his bed,” I remind her softly. “But if you want, you can ask him about having a sleepover in his room. Just not tonight. You’ve got school tomorrow.”
“Friday?”
