Page 10 of Inglorious (Unwanted Bastards MC #1)

Inglorious

H ow the fuck did I end up here? I would love to say I didn’t know. But it was a woman’s fault whose name began with N. AA was for losers, and I wasn’t one. I was a man struck with grief, remorse, and agony at his losses. Hell, I wasn’t an alcoholic. I could handle my drink, so I told myself.

The truth was much worse.

I stared at the building, not wanting to go inside and admit I was an addict. Addict seemed such a dirty word to me. But here I was. Having been locked in a cell for a week while I dried out, I now stood in front of AA. Did everyone who came here have second thoughts? Did they all feel like losers?

“Hey, you coming in or going to stand there?” a woman asked, and I startled in surprise. I’d not seen her approach.

“Hey,” I muttered somewhat lamely.

“That didn’t answer my question,” she replied with a grin.

“What’s with women busting my balls lately?” I demanded, and she laughed.

“I’m Mase, and I’ve been coming here for two decades,” she said.

“That’s impossible. You don’t seem old enough,” I stated, my brow furrowing at Mase’s lie.

“Sorry, but it’s true. My parents were drunks, I was a drunk at thirteen and forced sober at sixteen when my twin died. I’m thirty-six and an alcoholic. Proudly, I haven’t touched a drop of liquor since I was sixteen and a half. Sera’s death scared me straight.”

“Shit, sorry to hear that,” I muttered.

Mase held my gaze. “Admitting you’ve a problem is the first step. Once you’ve achieved that, then the rest falls into place,” Mase said.

“For a man like me, that’s a difficulty.

” “And what makes you so special, Inglorious of the Unwanted Bastards? Yeah, I know your story, and it’s tragic.

But no different from the lone survivor of a family car crash, or a soldier who lost his team.

Or even the only person to walk away from a train wreck.

Tragedy surrounds us. It’s how we manage it that counts.

However, I suspect, for someone like you, who’s used to giving orders and being in charge, what happened to your club was something you’ve never experienced before.

And you lacked the tools to handle it,” Mase lectured astutely.

I opened my mouth to argue that Mase knew nothing of my pain and closed it again. Mase had lost her twin, half her soul, yet stood in front of me strong and sober.

“Twenty years?”

“Yup. Sometimes I struggle with the urge to have an imbibe, but I know it’s bad.

Instead, I surrounded myself with non-alcoholic options so I can party with company and stay teetotal.

Honestly, twenty years on and I still have the cravings, but they’re not as sharp or painful as they used to be.

I don’t even kid myself I can have one drink, because that will lead to a slippery slope. ”

“Sounds like you’ve got your head screwed on right.”

“You could have too if you admit what you are,” Mase replied.

“An addict? Addicts are weak,” I said, but the ire in my voice was aimed internally.

“Are you weak or strong, Inglorious? We’ll see.” Mase turned away from me and headed inside, leaving me alone.

That was a damn good question.

◆◆◆

Mase smiled as I entered the room and spotted several other people milling around.

“Guess you answered your question,” she stated.

“Yeah, I’m a pussy.”

“No, you’re strong because only the strong recognise they’ve a problem and seek help. Glad to see a local hero knows his limits. Come on, drinks and doughnuts are free, and it’s a help yourself service,” Mase said and led me to a table.

“Hi, you’re new,” a guy interrupted with a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Hey,” I replied. That was lame, and I felt uneasy. This wasn’t comfortable. I was used to leading and not being judged. Was I being scrutinised? Who the fuck knew?

“Rick,” the guy introduced himself.

“Inglorious.”

“Is that your real name? We don’t usually go by nicknames here,” Rick said, and I stiffened as he continued. “People can hide behind a nickname, and that’s frowned upon.

“Then I shouldn’t be here. I’ve answered to Inglorious for too many years for me to answer to anything else.” I put the coffee down that Mase had just handed me.

“Inglorious, it’s fine. Rick is being pedantic. Rick, Inglorious is his club name, and they don’t go by birth names… so, we’ll address him by Inglorious,” Mase interrupted.

“That’s breaking the rules!” Rick exclaimed, outraged.

“This ain’t worth this shit. I’ll find somewhere else to attend a meeting,” I said as my temper rose. I stared at the puny little man causing trouble. “Thought these groups were supposed to be supportive. This was my first time attending one. Way to make someone welcome, asshole.”

With that, I turned and strode off. As I did, the clamouring inside of me, screeching for a drink, grew. My inner voice almost deafened me, telling me I was going to fail and to hit the local bar. As I reached the door, a hand snagged my arm and stopped me.

“Inglorious stop. You’re on the verge of breaking. You need this meeting,” Mase said.

Rick hovered behind her.

“Mase, I was okay until that asshole started. Now I crave a drink because of his attitude. I’m Inglorious. Nobody addresses me by my given name and hasn’t for decades. If that’s against the rules, fine.”

I crossed my arms and stared at Rick. He had the grace to appear ashamed.

“Inglorious, you have to stay. This is your first step to recovery. Don’t leave,” Mase replied.

“Inglorious is who I am. I’m not hiding behind a nickname. I am Inglorious. You’re right, I need this meeting. But I won’t deny who I am,” I responded.

Mase smiled. “That’s fine. Come sit down, Kenny’s waiting for us. He’s the leader of the group.”

A thin-faced man watched us with a welcoming smile on his face.

“Hello! Welcome to the meeting,” Kenny greeted as Mase and I took seats. Rick sat close, sending baleful looks.

“Kenny, he’s not telling anyone his real name,” Rick said before I could reply to Kenny.

Kenny twisted to Rick. “What have we told you about greeting people? I suspect Inglorious is the only name he would answer to.”

A smirk crossed my face as Rick turned red and fidgeted in his chair.

“Breaking the rules,” Rick muttered.

“Inglorious, please make yourself at home,” Kenny said. I guessed he knew my name because of my patch.

“Thanks.”

Kenny ran through the opening of the meeting and had everybody introduce themselves. When it came to my turn, everyone looked at me. There was no judgment from anyone apart from Rick, and everyone seemed at ease.

“I’m Inglorious, and I’m here because I witnessed something horrific. That haunts me to this very day, and because of certain events, I became an alcoholic,” I finally replied.

Mase offered a reassuring smile, and Kenny nodded.

“There are many reasons people turn to drink, knowing and accepting them is a big step forward,” he said. Then Kenny inquired if anyone wished to speak. Glad the spotlight was off me, I sat back and listened.

Nanci

Inglorious had made it obvious he was leaving town when it was time for his meeting.

I paid him very little attention, but Vortex followed him and called to say Inglorious had hesitated but had gone inside.

For his sake, I hoped Inglorious got the help he needed.

However, for the foreseeable future, I was stuck here.

The clubhouse kitchen had finally been signed off as completed by Apache, and the rooms were all being repainted as I’d wished.

I was looking through applications for the cook’s job I’d advertised when the door blew open.

Through it marched the presidents of the allied clubs, followed by Party and Gamer.

With a resigned sigh, I sat back in my chair, folded my arms, and issued them a stern look.

Quietly, they ranged in a semi-circle around my table.

“Gentlemen,” I said and didn’t say another word.

Party was smirking, and Gamer was showing outright glee.

“Good to see you, Nanci,” Drake murmured.

“And yet not even two weeks have passed since our last meeting,” I replied.

Jailbait, the Devil’s Damned Disciples President, looked amused and winked. His lone action informed me they were here to crucify me despite Party and Gamer’s presence.

“But as always, Nanci, such a pleasure,” Drake returned, and I smiled slightly.

“Touché, Drake. What can I do for you?”

“Heard there was a new president in the area, and as it concerned an ally, we thought we’d pop by,” Tiger, Satan’s Warrior’s President, answered.

“Well, damn! If you’d let me know there was a party, I’d have ordered takeout,” I said with minor sarcasm.

Scythe, the President of Devil’s Scythe, sent me a look. “Sweet cheeks, there’s no need for attitude.”

I just about held back my blush. Sweet cheeks was a personal nickname for me. And for good reason.

“When you all turn up without warning and in a group, I’d say there’s cause to be defensive. I’ll ask again, why are you here en masse?”

“We’re here to welcome and to assure you that from our side, nothing has changed. The Unwanted Bastards remain a valuable ally,” Onyx replied. The Riders of Vengeance President was as impassive as always. You could never tell if Onyx was happy, sad, or going to slit your throat.

“Yup, it’s not every day we greet a new president,” Lance from Fallen Warriors said.

“We’re here to welcome and recognise your position,” Chance, the final president, added. Chance ran Hellfire MC.

“What?” Party exclaimed.

“Yeah, we also brought you a problem back. Seems you kicked two prospects for lack of respect?” Scythe said, and his voice changed. Ha, I recognised that tone very well.

“I did indeed. Why the fuck are you on Unwanted Bastards’ land?” I demanded, turning to Party and Gamer.