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Jimmy snorted. “You’re asking the club to give up a lot of fucking money because you feel sorry for them. You’re damn right I’m calling church.” He stood up, took the last swig of his beer, set it down, then walked to the middle of the clubhouse. “Church. Now,” he barked out, then made his way to the meeting room that was in the back.

The members stopped what they were doing, some grumbling as they’d been working hard toward orgasms. They had to put hard cocks away and get dressed, leaving their male and female lovers looking disappointed. Others just shuffled off to the back, drinks in hand if they had them. Ze walked past the Wall of Pride, as they called it. It featured mugshots from the brothers who’d been arrested. Ze’s photo was on there from when he’d been arrested for a barroom brawl he had been a part of when he was twenty-one. It had been in Wolf’s bar, and it had been his club brothers against some Marines. He smiled to himself as he thought back to the night.

Yeah, that had been a great fight. He’d broken his pinky during that fight. He walked down the long hallway where more club brother photos were posted. This was a tradition of the Lords to take a photo of the day they became patched members. Ze’s was up there. He was nineteen and standing by his first bike, a used 2001 Indian Spirit. Unlike some of their Lords of Chaos chapters, the Chicago chapter wasn’t stuck on Harley Davidsons. As long as your bike was American, you were good.

He made it to the meeting room and took his seat. They had twenty brothers in the club in total, but thirteen were present for church. Jimmy sat at the head of the table, gavel in front of him. Their table was redwood, with the club’s patch emblem carved into the middle. The face of a grinning demon, a mouth full of fangs. The words “Show No Mercy” at the top were the words they lived by. There were no windows in this room and it was also where they stored their weapons in case of emergency. The room remained locked and only the club’s officers had the key.

“This is going to be a short meeting, so I’m going to get right to it,” Jimmy began once all of the members were present and settled. “We have a job, a pretty big one. We’ve been hired to take out Senator Kelly. Our client is pretty sure he killed their daughter. They’re willing to pay two hundred and fifty K to get the job done, but it would leave them very short of funds. Ze is going to take the hit, but he wants to do it for a hundred and fifty K–plus expenses. We need to vote on if we’re taking the cut or not. As you know, that’s a whole lot of money the club will be losing for a job this big. So, discuss.”

“Shit, I mean, I get why Ze doesn’t want to take the full amount, but the club could really use that money,” said Dwayne “Nails” Balfour, one of the club members.

“A hundred and fifty K is still a lot of money, we’ll be fine,” Python said.

“Yeah, but two hundred and fifty K is more money. You see how that works? I mean, It’s sad that they lost their daughter and all, but killing a senator is a lot of risk. I think Ze and the club are worth it,” said Dillon "DJ" Jamison, one of the club’s members.

There were others who agreed with him as they nodded their heads.

Carmelo “Ignacio” Gentile, another member, shrugged. “I’m good either way.”

Paris “Romeo” Lexington, the club’s Vice President, shrugged. “Ze’s doing the mission, taking the chance. If he wants to take the cut, I say we honor it. It’s not like we’ll be broke otherwise.”

There was more discussion.

“I agree with Ze,” Wolf said. “Fucking family already lost their daughter. They don’t need to lose everything else. We’re outlaws, not monsters. We protect this community, and that’s why people come to us when they can’t go to the cops in the first place.”

“Because the fucking pigs are useless. They don’t prevent shit, we do. Gotta man who’s beating on you? The police aren't who you go to,” said Steven “Goat” Miller.

“Fuck yeah,” echoed some of the men who nodded their heads as well.

“I say we vote now. I’ve got to get to work soon,” said Enrico “Raven” Rodriguez, the club’s other enforcer. Almost as pretty as a woman, and bisexual, he didn’t have a thirst for blood the way that Ze did, but he had the skills and motivation to get the job done. Killing was always something Enrico would prefer to avoid. But if beating a person’s ass didn’t get them to act right, then a bullet always took care of the problem. That was his opinion.

“Yeah, I agree. So, all in favor?” Jimmy asked, beginning the vote. Several members raised their hands.

“I’ve got four ‘yes’ and three ‘no’ votes from the members who voted by proxy,” Shannon “Big Boy” Washington said as he looked down at his cell phone. He was the club’s Secretary and had been for ten years.

“The ‘Nays’?” Jimmy asked those present.

Only a few raised their hands.

“All right, it’s decided. We accept the cut,” Jimmy said, then looked at Ze. “We take half up front and ten thousand for your expenses. Travel cheaply.”

Ze smirked but nodded. “I’ll let you take care of that business.” He rose from his seat.

“Are you trying to leave now?” Jimmy asked. “You look like your bags are already packed.”

Ze gave him a half smile. “They are packed. You know how I get when I’m on a mission.”

Jimmy nodded. “Well, cool your fucking heels. We still have to get paid first.” He pulled out his cell. “Meeting adjourned,” he said to the members, then slammed his gavel down. “I’ll let you know when we have the money.”

“Okay then,” Ze said, then left the clubhouse. He went back to his apartment and as soon as he got inside, his cell began ringing. He looked down to see that it was his brother, Zindel.

“Hey bro, what’s up?” Ze asked.

“I’m just calling to let you know not to wait up for me. I’m hanging out with Snoopy and Shay after work. I’ll just stay over at Snoopy’s tonight,” Zindel said.

“All right. Listen, I probably won’t be here when you get back. I have a mission to go on. If I can get to Memphis in time, it shouldn’t take me any longer than three days.”

“Seriously? What kind of mission?” Zindel asked.