Page 2 of Sever
“Have a seat and we’ll get started.” Pres takes his seat at the head of the table and a silence falls over the room.
He stands tall, from the way the men immediately quiet I can tell that he has their respect. None of us respected Marcus, we did what we were told because we were supposed to. “Brothers, meet the new recruits. Lucky for them, they made the right decision and have decided to join us.” He looks at us. “You’re on probation, all of you. We have cuts. A month with no incidents, you’ll get your names on them, but make no mistake, you are brothers as of now.” He jabs at the table, his eyes sweeping over every one of us. “That means that you are bound by the rules of this club.”
I nod, seeing the other guys do the same out of the corner of my eye. The silence is eerie. Our old president commanded respect, but this . . .
This was another level.
“You do whatever job you’re assigned, no bitching, no negotiation. You need to crash, there are rooms here, but the upstairs rooms are off-limits. Don’t know what you’re used to, but ’round here we respect our women. “Club girls,” he jerked his head toward the door, “most will do what you ask, but you do not fuck with them. Don’t know what you’re used to, but ’round here no means no, anyone’s got a problem with that feel free to make an appointment with Cutter here.” A man in the chair to his left shifted, catching my attention. “The old ladies are to be respected. You find a girl you want to keep around, you’re more than welcome to claim her.”
He leans back in his chair, hands behind his head, fingers laced. It’s a relaxed pose but I know his reputation and I’m not fooled.
Not for one minute.
“We just had guys get back from a run so it’ll be a few days before the next. The officers will give you any assignments you might have as of now. Any questions, ask. Just know that you'll be watched.” He looks around the room. “This is your family now. Respect it.”
The gavel bangs on the table and the men get up, filing slowly from the room, speaking in hushed tones low enough not to be heard. Pres walks over, handing us each a cut. “Wear this with pride and don’t fuck it up. We’ll be having a party this weekend to celebrate.”
One of the officers comes walking up to me. He was the one Pres referenced and his face seems a bit more accepting than the other brothers. “Name’s Cutter.” He offers his hand and I shake it, noticing the patch on his cut that says “Treasurer.”
He follows my gaze. “Pres said you had this title at the old club?”
I did, but considering Marcus was hiding most of the money, I don’t think the position was ever really mine. “Yeah.”
“Okay, I’ve been keeping up with the legitimate businesses.”
I try to rein in my shock but he catches it.
“Yeah, that’s right, we’ve got legit stuff. Problem is, it’s too much and I don’t have the education for it. We need a professional. You’re gonna head out here.” He hands me a card, pointing at the address. I turn the card over in my hands. It’s a fancy one. “Heard they don’t mind cutting some corners and fudging some numbers for the right price. You need time to get settled?”
“No.” I left most of my crap at the old clubhouse. Wasn’t worth the effort to bring it with me.
He lifts his chin. “Owner is expecting you. Good to have you here, brother.” He claps me on the back and walks out of the room. My shoulders drop slightly. I hope the rest of the men will be as accepting as Cutter, but I highly doubt it.
I’m barely out of the room when Colt is on me. “What was all that? You already get yourself in trouble?”
“Nope, got an assignment. See you later.”
I walk out to my bike, feeling good that I’ve already been given a role. There’s a chance this is some sort of test; that they think I will fail so they’ve set me up. Just means I have to make sure this goes smooth.
Hopefully I don’t run into the one woman who could put all of it in jeopardy.
