Page 65 of Mad Max

The room erupts with hoots and hollers till Prez’s glare shuts us up again.

“Pretty damn obvious we missed you lot, in case you didn’t know. Been awfully quiet ’round here. Can’t figure out why for the life of me.”

The boys chuckle as Bass flips them off. Loudmouth was too much to put on a man’s vest, so we gave him the name Bass instead. He’s got a hell of a big mouth and can’t ever shut the hell up, just like the fish.

“Know you been itching to talk,” Law continued, “so why not use what God gave you and tell us how it went?”

“Missed you fuckers too. Now, before you all get weepy-eyed on me, let’s get to it. The boys in Washington are up and running. We even took care of a local job that Flint sent our way. The boys did pretty good. Got a few more lines on some other chapters that want to join in as well and be part of it. Next trip will be to North Dakota. Been talking to the VP up there, and they think they have a good location for a training facility. The prez up there’s got a large plot of family land that he ain’t using most of the time. Figured I take the prospect and we do measurements and get a price point. If it’s something we can manage, might think about charging each chapter a maintenance fee to keep it up if they send their teams there to train.”

“Damn, guy’s got a brain along with a mouth. Who knew?” Kooper grunts, and even the prez chuckles along with us.

Bass shrugs it off in his usual fashion. “Why you think I keep pulling the ladies away from you, man? Pussy knows a good thing walking when they see it.”

“Too bad neither of you sees anything but the women walking away from you.” Casper smirks as the room fills with “oohs.”

“Shut it. Sounds like a good deal. Which prospect you bringing?”

I ain’t the only one who sees the twinkle in Law’s eyes. We all know we only allowed one prospect into this meeting. The other is a brother, he just doesn’t know it yet. I know little about our latest prospect, just that Bulldog vouched for him a few months back when he helped him clear out a former prospect who was getting his dick wet and not watching over the VP’s princess.

As for the other guy in here, yeah, I know him. We all do. We wouldn’t allow a prospect into the club as a brother who we didn’t know. Guy’s proven himself to the club several times. Even took a bullet for Mama Bear. Kid has guts and brains too. He showed those when he had Flint’s old lady checked out even before anyone else knew who she was. Even before she herself knew.

“From what I saw over the last few weeks, we only got one.” Bass crosses his arms, and a persona takes over. He’s nothing like the jokester we all know but the man our enemy fears. We call him Bass because he’s loud. The enemy calls him that ’cause after one hit, the guy’s lying on the ground, out cold like a dead fish. “Think we need to vote the other one out. He ain’t no prospect. Not anymore if I got a say.”

The brothers all nod in agreement, and I watch from my spot beside and a bit behind Law. I can see everything, and though I might look like I’m glazing over everyone, but I’m staring only at one man—the former prospect. He’s standing next to the newest one, both closest to the door. Neither gets a seat, not till they're officially patched in. We’re only letting these two prospects in Church because of what they did for us in Washington, showing them a bit of respect for representing the mother chapter. Might not seem like much to an outsider, but it means something in here.

And he looks pissed. Fucking livid. Once again, a normal man wouldn’t see it. But I do, and I’m sure I’m not alone. His jaw is clenched tight, and his fists are balled up at his sides. He’s either upset by the man standing by him, or he fucked up a bit in Washington, and Bass has been saying this shit for long enough that he knows he’s on a hot brick.

“Is that right?” Law looks over at the two at the door, as we all do.

We’re taking our time, assessing them. Even the new kid stands a bit taller. Not that either are kids. I’m like the rest of my brothers and don’t pay much attention to a prospect unless he’s here at least six months, sometimes nine. They come and go so much, it just ain’t worth it. Nothing like hoping for someone to be your brother only to be disappointed when they fuck up, and then the prez has to tell you not to beat their asses up. Even if they deserve more than the one they already get before we kick them out. Doesn’t happen all the time, but we’re usually sending a prospect packing with a few broken ribs.

Guys come here looking for a cool color to wear and wanting to fuck a bunch of women with zero rules. They think they’re someone, but they ain’t. They’re the same till we say otherwise. Then they have to earn being one of us, proving they know the difference between a weekend rider and a Hound of the Reaper. We demand a lot of our prospects, but the reward to become one of us is nothing they’ve ever had before. The brotherhood alone is what keeps all of us here. Well, the easy pussy helps.

Not that I care about that anymore. Sure, I still get easy pussy, but it ain’t random and different every day. Not that I’m complaining. Fairy keeps me plenty occupied, and I ain’t looking for anything else in that department. She gets me, and I get her. Winners all around.

“I know you were hoping for someone to step in and help Flint, but I got to admit, the kid’s not working as a prospect anymore.”

If possible, the room grows quieter as it becomes clear who Bass is singling out. To the guy’s credit, he’s still standing tall and not saying shit, even though I know it’s eating him alive. We’ve all been there for shit like this in one way or another. Too bad the fucker doesn’t know we’re just playing.

Till Domino breaks. Followed by Jumper and Law. All three crack smiles and start laughing lightly.

“Jesus, man,” Bass complains. “What the fuck? I could have gone like ten more minutes.”

“Pshhh, please. It’s a miracle you lasted this long. Besides, you’re always the one to crack first. About time one of us gets to be the saving grace.” Domino shakes off Bass’s death glare as the rest of the boys relax and chuckle a bit more.

He ain’t wrong. Bass is usually the one to break face first. He doesn’t do well at pretending to be mad.

“Relax, Prospect. We ain’t kicking anyone out.” Law waves at the other prospect who’s only been here a few months, who just nods but still doesn’t smile. Not sure if I’ve ever seen the guy do that, but I ain’t been watching him like Bass has. “We’re just welcoming our newest member to the brotherhood. Welcome to the Hounds of the Reaper, Gator.”

The guy groans at his new club name but accepts the rest of us saying our congrats and his new rocker that makes him a fully patched member. I heard he hated that name, so I’m not sure why Law gave it to him. I’ll have to ask him about it after this. Despite what I’m sure most civilians think, we don’t usually give club names that brothers hate. We want them to actually want to be here. Being called a name that just irritates the shit out of a person doesn’t exactly make them loyal to something.

“All right, shut up and let’s continue. We can celebrate after this shit is done. Prospect, you’re only staying ’cause we’re going to be doubling up on rounds, and I expect you to relay this shit to the other prospects. Don’t be expecting this in the future.”

The guy nods at Law in confirmation before the prez continues.

“Duke is still in the weeds. Fairy confirmed that she got a few slices in, but he was breathing before we breached the place.”

“Still can’t fucking believe how accurate she is with a knife,” Jumper says with a shake of his head.

---