Page 50 of Renascence

Prez takes another deep breath, glancing at Einstein, who gives him a nod of encouragement. Those two are thick as thieves, so it makes sense they’ve already discussed the matter. A hush falls over the table, everyone hoping he’s not about to say what we think he’s going to say. This club probably wouldn’t function without him. Einstein doesn’t want the chair, and neither does anyone else.

“Back in September when Krueger showed up at my wedding party? He and I had a little chat.”

Shit. Krueger is our national president. My ears perk up, anxious to hear what’s next.

“He told me he’s retiring next year.”

“Shit,” Chopper mumbles. He’s usually quiet in our meetings, and now he’s spoken twice already. “He’s tapping you to take over, isn’t he?”

“He said he likes what I’ve done with our charter, mentioned he’d endorse me in the election.”

“With his endorsement, it means the position is yours,” Einstein says what everyone is thinking.

“You don’t just say ‘thanks, but no thanks’ to Krueger.” Chopper gives his son a solemn stare.

“I know. Hence the dilemma.”

Dilemma indeed. A man like Krueger wouldn’t understand Gage’s need to put his family first. He’s MC through and through, putting the club above everything else.

“You thought about it?” Razor asks.

“Some. On one hand, I could do some good for the entire organization. On the other, it puts me in more danger and gives me less time with my family. You can all guess which way I’m leaning.”

“Which means we also need to find another candidate for Krueger to back,” Einstein says.

“You’re just a regular shit stirrer tonight, aren’t you?” I chuckle. “Don’t worry, Prez. We got your back.”

“Thanks, brother. I appreciate it.”

To lighten the mood, I head to the safe and start distributing payouts. It works, the men’s attention now on their envelopes.

“Anybody got anything to put to the table?” Prez asks.

When everyone replies with a no, he adjourns the meeting. I move to the door, collecting dues as the men mill out of the chapel. I record it all, stash it in the safe, then join my brothers in the bar. The Hounds have arrived and are busy serving up drinks and snacks with the prospect. He’s young, but he seems to be fitting in so far. If he sticks with it, he might make a good Dealer.

“Hey, Venom.”

I turn to find Marisol smiling up at me. She hands me a beer, threading her fingers through mine and tugging me toward the couch. I allow her to sit in my lap the way she’s done a hundred times, but tonight it feels weird.

Wrong.

I’m single so it shouldn’t matter, but for some reason it does.

“I miss you,” she whispers in my ear, pushing her tits in my face. “Want me to come to your room tonight?”

“Sorry, dollface. I got plans.”

“Oh.”

The disappointment is evident in her voice. These women may be Hounds, but they’re more than available pussy. I don’t want her to feel shitty.

“Some other time.”

“Okay.”

She shuffles off my lap, heading back to the bar. The clubhouse door bangs against the wall and Millie comes bursting in, a flash of red hair, leather pants, and low-cut top. The woman has to be in her fifties but acts half her age. I’m not ashamed to admit I hit that. I’m not the only Dealer, either. She owns the diner in town, and is Nita’s best friend, so she’s a club friend. She’s been hanging out with Chopper lately, and it looks like Gage and Ellen may be getting a stepmom soon. That would make Nita happy. She’s Chopper’s sister, and practically raised his kids after their mother died.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to find a text from Emily.