Page 11 of Biker

My eyes stray to Monk, and I wonder, as I see those shadows pass over his eyes again, if he’s thinking the same thing I am.

Rites settles into his VP chair right before Spark takes the seat at the head of the table. When everyone settles down, he bangs his gavel. The meeting starts out slow, at least for me because I almost can’t wait until it gets opened to new business. I’m fidgeting in my seat as the profits from the business are reviewed.

A few of my brothers notice and I catch Nero smirking at me. I want to flip him off, but I restrain myself. Fucking barely.

“We need to vote on whether or not we’re patching in Beau tonight.” Rites is all smiles as he reminds us, as if we don’t remember already. I’m not sure if he’s grinning so widely because we’re welcoming another brother into the fold tonight or because of the party. Sparks makes a motion with his hand for his VP to continue. “All in favor.”

“Aye,” choruses around the table and I don’t even have to look to know it’s unanimous.

“All opposed,” Rites prompts even though he knows he doesn’t need to.

The silence of the room is confirmation that we have another brother joining our ranks. I find myself smiling, a giddy feeling filling my belly. He’s a good man and he’ll make a good brother.

Spark pulls his phone out of the pocket in his cut and types for a moment before he tucks it away again. A few moments later there’s a knock on the door and Friar, the club’s tech guy and secretary, stands and opens the door.

Beau walks in, his eyes taking in everyone’s expressions. The moment he knocked, we all schooled our features to not give anything away. It’s hard to do, but Spark has a flair for the dramatic. It’s better to go along with it than try and stop him.

“Beau,” Spark starts, his voice resonating around the room and causing the man about to get his patch stand up straighter. “You’ve been a prospect for the Devil’s Saints for a year.” I watch as Beau swallows hard and tries not to squirm as my lip twitches. “You won’t be a prospect anymore.”

Beau’s shoulders slump slightly, his eyes going to the floor as he shrugs off his cut, still treating it with reverence even though he thinks he hasn’t made it. The poor guy. Spark is staring him down and drawing this out.

I look up at Penance, who is fighting a smile. He’s normally stoic as fuck because he thinks it’s part of his atonement for whatever he’s been beating himself up about since he came to the Saints eight years ago. I did notice that something changed almost a year ago, but he hasn’t said anything, and I haven’t asked. He’ll talk when he’s ready.

“No,” Spark rubs his jaw as if he’s thinking, “now you’ll be Chains.”

Friar holds out Chains’ new cut just as Beau’s looks up, shock written across his face. “Holy shit,” he crows, and we all break our serious faces and start laughing. The moment Chains puts his cut on, I can see the change in him. He’s infused with pride, and I know the loyalty in him runs just as deep. “Thank you, brothers,” his voice drips with sincerity as he looks at each of us. “I won’t let you down.”

Brimstone, who was the last brother we patched in, jumps up from his chair and pulls one from the wall to the table. We start pounding on the table, cheering, and making a huge fucking ruckus. As Chains heads to his new seat at the table, he’s pounded on the back, but it doesn’t look like he feels it at all.

It’s only when he’s seated, once everyone has calmed down, that we hear a phone ringing. Spark pulls his phone out, his eyebrows pulling together at whoever is calling him. He swipes across the screen and starts talking before the person on the other end can greet him, “Purgatory, did you miss us and call during church to brag about your travels?” He sneers slightly, “Even if it is in an RV for Mom.”

Purgatory might be Spark’s father, but he gets respect as former Prez first and foremost. That doesn’t mean his son doesn’t give him shit. It’s well deserved, it must be hard as hell for him to be trapped in an RV instead of being on his bike.

“No,” there’s something in Purgatory’s voice which has all of us sitting up straighter.

“What happened?” Spark’s voice is hesitant, “Isn’t today the New Orleans Poker Run?”

“It is,” he pauses, and I can hear the exhaustion and worry in his voice, “at least, it was. It happened and almost went off without a hitch.” I meet the gazes of Monk, Penance and Rites, worry seeping into my bones. “Shit went down. There’s a former club angel dead. Prodigal’s old lady was almost kidnapped.”

I can’t keep my shit together and I shoot out of my seat; I’m not alone either. “What the fuck?” My voice goes a little panicked, “Is she okay?”

Purgatory doesn’t balk at being interrupted. He already knows that we all took a shine to Wrenley. She’s a cool chick and fucking perfect for our brother. We might be a different chapter, but we’re all fucking brothers and he needed her to come into his life. He needed her to show him that love exists again; he was losing himself.

My chest aches at the thought of anything happening to McKenzie and I fall back into my seat.

“She’s fine,” Purgatory assures us. “That little prick who had been stalking her hooked up with the former angel. I’m sure there’s a story there, but I don’t know it yet,” he muses. “He almost grabbed Wrenley and shot her best friend in the process.”

“Tell me they put him down like a rabid dog,” Rites growls.

Purgatory chuckles, “Better.”

I relax slightly because I know that means my brothers grabbed Anarchy, the man who was stalking Wrenley. He might be the president of a rival MC, but it doesn’t matter when there’s a claim being ignored. You don’t do that shit. Anarchy is going to be in a world of hurt and he’ll be facing his death very shortly. I have no doubt.

I’d do the same fucking thing.

“Does Lucifer need anything? Does Prodigal? Wrenley? How’s her friend?” This time it’s Spark lobbing out questions; he heard all about Wrenley from those of us who took the trip and I know he already has a soft spot for the woman. “I can send a few brothers that way,” he offers.

“No,” Purgatory insists, “we’re good. Renegade and a few brothers made the trip up from the Tampa chapter. We’re covered.” I let out a whistle because Anarchy doesn’t even know the hornet’s nest that he stepped in. Renegade is the president of the Tampa chapter and he’s no fucking joke. He sighs, “Sioux is in surgery right now. We’re all waiting for an update on her. Apostle is about to tear the hospital down one floor at a time.”

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