Page 1 of Reign
One - Reign
Being Kingis not all fun and games. Whoever said being President of an MC was all booze, pussy and living free was an uneducated idiot. I can hear my brothers in the common room, the bass from the music vibrating through the walls, dulled slightly by my closed office door.
Resting my elbows on the desk, I rub my temples, trying to get rid of the headache appearing as the numbers on the papers in front of me seem to be jumping.
Don’t get me wrong, I love being President. The faith my brothers have in me is enough to vote me in, enough to blindly follow me. Okay, maybe blindly is a little strong. After all, an MC is based on respect, trust, and loyalty but also on what is best for the club as a whole. We are a family. I have my brother's backs and they have mine. We each have a role to play, not just the officers but we wouldn’t be able to function as the well-oiled machine that we do without every moving part, playing its role, regardless of how small that role is.
My desk looks like a paper bomb has gone off. I know I need to be more organized and sort myself out. Wonder if I can get an assistant? Do MC presidents have assistants or is it the secretary's job to help me? Yeah, I’ll delegate some of this crap to the other officers.
My musing about assistants and my lack of organization is interrupted by a hammering on my door. Groaning at what someone needed now, I call them to enter. Another downside to being the President, everyone comes to you with their problems. But who do you go to with yours? This is where I guess an ol lady would be the perfect person.
I’ve been feeling a little disjoined with life recently. I am not getting any younger and feel like now is the time to settle down. Find my ride or die. Then again, I am pretty sure I found her years ago but as I am an asshole, I managed to lose her.
“Hey, why are you hiding?” Suede asks as his head appears around my door.
“Not hiding fucker. Going over the accounts” I grumble back
Fucker has the nerve to laugh at me, while he takes a seat on the sofa I keep in my office.
“As Treasure, isn’t it Bench’s job to look over the numbers?”
“He does but I also like to know what’s in the accounts and how each business is doing?”
Yes, we are a one percenter club and we have less legal ways of earning green but also do have a few legal businesses. The standard garage and strip club but we also own a steakhouse, a design business which Pixel runs plus a tattoo shop and bar. The steakhouse is more upmarket and earns us a boatload but we tend not to go there much, just show our faces now and again. The Royal Grill is definitely our money maker.
“Joys of being King” Suede laughs
“Remember that next time you think you can fill this seat”
“Oh, you can keep that seat, do I fuck as like want the headache”
His head moves toward the door and slants to the side as if he’s confused. I now notice the music has now stopped and all seems quiet. Too quiet and a sudden eerie feeling washes over me. Something was very wrong. Suede and I look at each other, stand and rush into the common room. All the brothers are standing around Tyres as he is freaking out.
“What is going on?” I ask no one in particular.
“Tyres got a call to say Banjo has taken a turn. Just waiting for his carer to call him back as the paramedics had just arrived.” Mischief tells me.
I made my way through the brothers who had gathered around Tyres who is sat on a sofa with his head in his hands. He looks so defeated. Banjo is Tyres' dad and they are so close, he’s close to all brothers here. He was never an actual member, but we made him an honorary member. Tyres also has a sister Raven. They are close siblings.
I sit next to Tyres on the sofa and place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing to show my support. His head lifts and the despair is clear as day across his face.
“We’ve got you brother” I promise
“I can’t lose him. What will I tell Raven?”
The worry and stress on his face, makes my heart hurt for him and Raven. But also, the club as a whole. Banjo is a massive part of us. Always around when one of us needs to talk or to put us on the straight path, give us a kick in the ass when needed. Where Royal Bastards, we also need our asses kicking.
Tyres phone going off ends all quiet conversation and everyone waits withheld breaths. I can only hear Tyres side of the conversation but from what I can make out, it is not good. He nods as if the person on the end of the phone can see him and ends the call. We all look at him, waiting for news.
“Debs said they are taking him to the hospital, they think he’s had a stroke. It’s bad Reign. I need to reach Raven.”
“I’ll contact Raven, you head off to meet the ambulance at the hospital. Concentrate on your dad” Mischief tells him, getting his phone out of his pocket already.
On mass, we leave the clubhouse and follow Tres. You can see the relief and feeling of support as the club sets off to the hospital with him. It doesn’t take us long to reach the hospital and park up.
The emergency room is crazy, people all over the place. They are not the most welcoming of places. No one would be here if they didn’t need to be. We make it to the nurse's station, just as Tyre's name is called. Debs, who is Banjos’ carer is rushing towards us.
“I told them you were coming. I figured everyone would come with you so we have a private waiting room.” She says as she leads back the way she came and into a private family room full of chairs but not enough chairs. We fill the available chairs and the rest of the brothers lean up against the walls or sit on the floor. Someone has tried to brighten up the room a little. It's painted a muted yellow color and artwork of flowers, landscapes and other bright-colored works hang on the walls.
