He’s all fired up with Sledge and Psycho holding him back. I wish they wouldn’t. I can see an opening to crack his ribs wide open and a nice upper cut to the underside of his nose, so he gushes. I wait, coiled like a cobra ready to strike. Sledge is talking to him off the ledge.
“Calm the fuck down, Slash. Easy, my guy,” he tells him while Slash struggles to get out of his boys’ grips.
“You old washed-up fucker! I’m going to kill you,” Slash threatens, pointing in my face.
“Ain’t nothing washed up about me. I can run rings around you. Speaking of rings, you probably had a few men on the inside touch that anus ring of yours. Ain’t that right?”
“You’re a dog for that, Bull,” Psych stands up for Slash.
“Let the pussy speak. Don’t cover for him.”
“My father never should have gotten involved with you. He must have been out of his mind. You don’t give a fuck about this club, do you? You’re a bitch, Bull! A straight sell-out.”
“If you keep paying me these compliments, Slash. I’m going to think you fancy me,” I taunt, pissed off that he’s taking a run at me. I can’t tell where the knock came from. Whoever came to the door was there and gone.
“Shut the fuck up, you old hack.” Slash spits again, working up a sweat while Psych and Sledge contain his rage. A switch flips inside of me as the rest of the club gathers loosely around us.
“Sledge, Psych, let him loose. Let’s settle this like men. This is how we did it in the olden days. None of this hiding behind guns. You’re too pussy to fight with your fists. Too worried about messing up your pretty face, bitch boy!”
“Not here!Take it to the table,” Sledge reasons, slicing through our insults with common sense. Slash stops struggling and I take my temper down a notch. I keep watching him just in case. I don’t want to have him fucking try me with a surprise attack.
Slash’s face is soaked in sweat, his eyes popping out of their skull. My forehead ripples with concern. “Who the fuck was at the door? Why are you about to lose your goddamn panties suddenly?”
The others, including a couple of patches, are all listening. Slash shakes his head, and the punk looks as if he’s about to break down and cry.
“Slash, old man, you better tell me it ain’t true.”
“What ain’t true?”
He shakes his finger as he regroups with jagged breaths. Sledge and Psych have let him go, but they’re close enough to pull him in line if he rushes me. “Tell me you didn’t go make a deal with Savages Outlaws to partner on a run. Tell me now, or so help me, boomer!” Slash calls out in exasperation.
“Yeah, I made a deal with the Savages. We’re in debt with our main suppliers, we need to-”
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? Those motherfuckers killed my father. There’sno waythis club is doing a run with them.”
I miss Axe too, but he’s still missing the point. We haven’t moved anywhere near the Church, but the meeting room is pretty much outside.
“Let’s take this into the Church. Why are we standing out here hurling insults back and forth? That’s where we can really get down to business,” Sledge says, driving the point home.
He turns Slash toward the Church, pushing him in the door as the others follow in behind me. The chatter of controversy is rolling, but Slash will not win. He has no fucking idea how to run a club. That’s the main issue with Slash—he lets his feelings carry him, and sometimes in a club, hard decisions have to be made.
Everybody pulls out a chair and sits down. I sit as far away as possible from Slash. I’ve had enough of his shit. He needs to man up and fucking quick. I jump right back into the conversation. “Hey dickhead, as I was saying, we need to pay the cartel back, otherwise we’re all gonna end up like your father—dead angels.”
“Keep my father’s name out of your fucking mouth...” Slash fights back, sitting down at the other end.
“Fuck you, asshole. He was my brother way before he was your father. And another thing—we’redoingthe run with the Savages. We can’t afford not to, and that’s that. How do you like that shit?”
“And who the fuck put you in charge?” Slash bites back, but the plan I have in place is the best one. Especially with the absence of a Savage Outlaws president.
“Son, don’t forget, nobody voted you into the president’s seat; you haven’t even been nominated. As far as I’m concerned, you can keep it warm and look all pretty in it all you want. But when it comes to major decisions that affect the well-being and future of this club, let the grown-ups handle it. Your bitch ass doesn’t have a plan. How did you plan to get us out of it? I’ve already sorted out the Sheriff and got him off our ass. It wasn’t you that did that. So come again?” I put a hand up to my ear. “What’s that? I can’t fucking hear you.”
Slash has finished being a cocksucker and rushes past the back of the other chairs in Church, hurtling straight toward me.Fine by me.I’ve been waiting to lay hands on him for the longest time. I get up and drop into a fight stance.
Unfortunately, Sledge stops him, and I bounce around on my feet. “Come the fuck on, boy. I motherfucking raised you. Let’s see what you got. Let’s see what those bitches taught you in prison.” I keep up on my toes, ready to take the lamb to slaughter, but Sledge has to intervene and stop the party like he always does.
“Fuck it, let settle this shit once and for all,” Sledge snaps. He throws Slash back, plopping him down into his seat. I look around the room and the boys are watching the circus, but not joining in. “Let’s take a damn vote right now. I nominate Slash!”
“Son of a fucking bitch,” I slam Sledge, but it’s a fair vote, and it’s about time for a decision to get made.