Page 13

Dante

“Is everyone here?” Crash asked, as he took his place at the head of the table. We were all waiting for church to begin, which we did at least once a week.

“Almost, Pres,” Zach answered, taking his place at the right of Crash.

Zach was my dad’s childhood friend, and they had been raised in the club together.

He was the current Sergeant at Arms, and was responsible for keeping order amongst the members, and was the most senior member after myself and the president.

I took my place at Crash’s right-hand side and waited for the other men to take their seats. “We’re just waiting for Doc,” I told him, lighting up a cigarette.

“It’s always fucking Doc,” Crash scowled, eyeing the door.

“It’s the dogs,” Hacksaw – the club’s secretary laughed, earning a smirk from me.

Monster was in charge of the dogs. And he was fucking useless at it.

They were always biting him or refusing to listen to any of his commands.

Still, he decided to stick at it, chasing them around the yard like a toddler would a butterfly.

It made for some funny watches, but also made for a lot of trips to the doc.

“Those dogs will be the death of me,” Crash shook his head, but there was a smile on his face.

He always had a fondness for dogs, and he was the main reason the club had so many, too.

He was also the only one the dogs really listened to, but we weren’t allowed to say that out loud lest Monster lose his shit.

“So why did you bring that rabid looking one to bed with you, then?” I asked.

“Your mother. Need I say more? If there’s anywhere that needs a guard dog, it’s the bloody bedroom. You all need to stop pissing her off, because it’s always my fault.”

My eyes went to Macbeth, who took his place next to Zach. Macbeth was the treasurer, and responsible for the club money and making sure everyone got their fair share from any jobs we did. “Speaking of mother – did she make you feel all better?”

“Fuck off, Dante,” he all but hissed at me.

“You never went crying to Mama again, kiddo?” Vienna said, needing no encouragement to wind him up. Vienna, myself and Macbeth all grew up together, alongside Zach’s sons Trent and Chris. We were brothers, and with that came the typical needling.

“Enough,” Crash snapped as the door opened. “Glad you could join us, Doc. How bad was it?” Doc just twisted his lips and pushed the door further open, showing a miserable-looking Monster with a bandaged hand. “He lost the tip of his little finger.”

I couldn’t help but burst out in laughter. “How the fuck did it get your little finger?”

“Bite me, Dante.”

“Looks like something already did,” I grinned at him.

“At least my old lady didn’t stab me in the leg,” he grinned at me.

“Just a scratch. She’ll lick it better later. Can you say the same about yours?”

“Checkmate,” he grinned.

“Let me have a look at the boo-boo,” Vienna teased, pouting his lower lip. “Is the boo-boo sore? Does he need the hospital?”

“You’re all assholes,” Monster grinned. He pulled out a chair at the bottom of the table and scowled at his bandage. “I’ll still be able to ride, at least.”

“Could be worse son, he could have bit off the tip of your dick,” Zach told him, earning another laugh from the table.

“I think that’s what it was going for. It’s a nasty fucker, that new dog.”

“That’s why it’s my favourite. Right, church is in session,” Crash said, banging down on the gavel.

Church was where we went to discuss our rides, our plans, and our women. It was a place of sanctuary and respect. Meetings were mandatory, and any member who missed more than two in a row, for whatever reason, had the potential to be patched out of the club.

“First item, and I think we all know what it is…” he said, his eyes flicking at me. “What do we all think of the new old lady?”

“I like her,” Macbeth said straight away. “She’s got our little Dante here wrapped around her finger.” I flipped him the bird and flicked the ash from my cigarette into the ashtray, blowing a puff of smoke out.

“She’s not who I thought Dante would bring home,” Shark said.

Shark was the roadrunner, responsible for organising the club rides.

“But Jenna seemed to like her.” Jenna was his old lady, and she worked at the bar most nights.

She was a nice enough woman, always with a smile on her face and a friendly ear.

It wasn’t surprising she liked the look of Rachel, since Rachel looked like a nice woman.

A screenshot flashed in my mind of Rachel with her tongue hanging out, showing me her empty mouth, and my cock jerked in response.

Rachel wasn’t as nice as she looked.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” Vienna grinned at me.

“It’s the quiet ones you need to watch out for.

” Vienna was the peacemaker of the group.

Even when it came to Macbeth. He knew how to diffuse a situation with wit and humour unlike anyone I had ever met.

He was the chalk to my cheese. Whereas I led with anger, he led with his mind.

He was cool and collected – most of the time.

I had seen him rip a man’s ear off with his teeth.

If push came to shove, he’d kill for the club, but it took a lot to get him truly angry.

“She’s not bloody quiet either,” I mumbled, earning a laugh from the table.

“They never are, lad,” Crash said, slapping me on the shoulders.

“And she’s not sweet either. Tell Jenna her judge of character sucks. I bet Jenna never stabbed you in the leg.” Shark had the decency to look sheepish.

“I got to know Jenna before I brought her into my room.”

“Is that the secret? Make sure women are not psychos first? Man, you need to learn to live a little!”

I took a heavy drag from my cigarette and sat back, listening as they all discussed my new old lady.

Hacksaw thought she seemed sweet.

Vienna was adamant she was a secret street fighter.

Shark was happy, so long as I was happy.

Rooster and Chicken – two brothers named for the fact their dad was a farmer – said she was attractive. They added “for an old lady” when I scowled at them.

And Tools – co-owner of the garage with Crash – just shrugged his shoulders, making the rest of the club members follow suit as they murmured their approval. Not that we needed approval for any of our old ladies. So long as they stayed in line, we could have whatever woman we wanted.

“That’s it then. Dante will help settle her in, and I’m sure she’ll be a welcome addition to the old lady team. Right,” he said, slamming the gavel. “Prospects.”

We had four prospects at the minute, all sitting at the end of the table. These were new members of the club who were not fully patched in. We had Monster, Noob, Shawn, and James. Monster sat up straighter, his attention on Crash.

Prospects had a year to prove themselves to the club. When the year was done, we held church to see if they would be patched in or not. We had already voted on him last week, but just for shits and giggles, we were holding him in suspense.

“As you know, Monster here has been with us for a year now,” he began, and I stifled a chuckle as I saw Monster sit up even further, hiding his bandaged hand behind his back as though we wouldn’t remember it.

“He’s been a valuable asset in helping train the guard dogs.

He’s organised two runs with Shark and has never missed a run himself.

And he took part in dealing with the Rough Riders last week, dealing with some lower members of their club selling on our patch.

” He paused, and we all turned to look at him.

“However, he has been late to church at least once a month, and in turn has caused Doc to be late. He had a fight with Macbeth over the dogs. He caused Trent to chip a tooth when one of the dogs got loose, and he currently has his hand in a bandage, meaning he may or may not be able to ride.” Monster lowered his chin to his chest, waiting for the inevitable moment when he would be told to turn in his patch.

“With all that being said… You’re in, kid.

” Monster’s head came up sharply, as he looked between me, Crash and Zach.

“You’re in,” Crash repeated, and then chaos descended.

Every member of the club, prospects included, got up to either hug him or slap him on the back.

Vienna reached under his chair and brought out his new jacket, with the complete club patch to replace his prospect patch.

“Welcome, brother,” I said to him, raising my hand in the air. He grasped it tightly, and I pulled him in for a hug, slapping his shoulders.

“Thanks, Dante.”

“Here. You earned this,” Vienna told him, holding the leather jacket to him. We all cheered as he put it on and took his place next to Macbeth at the table, away from the other prospects.

“I think that does it for church today, lads. Behave yourself. Stay out of Mama’s way, and make Rachel feel welcome.

See you all next week.” He banged the gavel, and one by one, we left the room.

“Dante, Vienna, stay behind with Zach.” He told us, his voice drowned out as everyone continued to congratulate Monster.

“Noob?” I called out.

“Yeah, VP?”

“Take Rachel some food up. Whatever you find, you mind your business. Just untie her, give her the food, and leave. Lock the door behind you. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” he nodded.

“You going to explain that or…?” Crash asked, his voice sounding amused.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” I replied, shaking my head.

Crash waited until the door was closed before he sat back down. I took my place next to him and sparked up another cigarette. “We’ve heard back from the Rough Riders. They’re adamant they weren’t the ones responsible for Mickey.”

“Do we believe them?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

Mickey had been a prospect of ours for around six months before he was run off his bike last week and murdered.

He was a decent bloke, never once minding that we called him Mickey because of his massive ears.

He took it all in his stride and laughed along with us.

He deserved better than the ending he got.

Crash sighed before he answered. “They’re not going to admit it, but I think we all know they were the one’s responsible. What we need to figure out is how we respond to it.”

“We can’t leave it unanswered,” Zach hissed. “They murdered one of our own.”

“He was a prospect,” Vienna reminded him. “If we retaliate, we’re declaring all-out war on the Rough Riders. Do we want war for a prospect?”

“He’s right,” I said, leaning forward with my elbows on the table and my cigarette between my lips. “War will be bloody, and we’ll lose much more than a prospect by the end of it.”

“So we let them get away with it? And then what? They’ll think we’re pussies. What’s stopping them from coming after another prospect? Heck, if they know we’re gonna do fuck all, what’s stopping them going for a patched in member?”

I knew what he meant. The Rough Riders would never take out a titled member of the club, but his sons weren’t titled members. They were just fully patched, and therefore vulnerable, as far as Zach was concerned.

“They’re not going to take on a patched member, title or not,” Crash reassured him.

“You know that for a fact, do you?”

“Do you know what’s more important to me?

” Vienna began. “Is finding out who told them where Mickey was going to be. No-one outside of this club knew his mother was sick. No-one even really knew he was a prospect. He wasn’t as involved as Monster.

No-one should have been following him to his mother’s facility. ”

“You think we have a rat?” I asked him.

“I think it’s a possibility. Look at last month – most of the guys were at the Greasy Spoon. And then Shark was attacked whilst picking up spare parts. Something isn’t right, and my nose smells a rat.”

“You have any idea who it is?” Crash said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes half closed as he contemplated what Vienna had said.

“No. All I know for certain is it’s not one of us.”

“One of the prospects, maybe?” Crash thought out loud.

“Maybe. Whoever it is, they’ll be pretty fucking stupid. They know what happens to men who betray the club.”

“I’ll look into it,” Zach promised. “In the meantime, let’s deal with what we know for a fact. How are we going to handle the Rough Riders and Mickey’s death?”

“I say we play them at their own game,” I said, taking another draw of my cigarette.

“They were clever. They attacked him whilst he was riding on his own, far away from the club. No witnesses, no nothing. I say we watch their prospects for a few days, find out their movements. Then, just when enough time has passed for the Rough Riders to think they got away with Mickey’s murder, we’ll take one of theirs, like they took ours. ”

“If this comes back on the club—” Crash began.

“So what? We mimic their movements. They can't outright accuse us without admitting what they did. We’ll deny it, and we’ll tell them there must be another club out there murdering prospects, since we don’t know who killed Mickey either.

They can’t deny it, because if they know for a fact there’s not another rival club, they’ll have to prove how they know it. ”

“And if they call our bluff?” Zach asked.

“We call theirs in return.”

“It’s the best we’ve got,” Vienna agreed.

“If they want to declare war over a prospect, then so be it. But right now, I think retaliating on the quiet is the best way to deal with it. They’ll know it's us, just like we know it's them. But it keeps things from escalating. Especially since we don’t want to spook Rachel when she’s only just arrived with a full-on war. ”

“Now that,” I nodded, “is why I like you. She’ll freak the fuck out if we start shooting anyone within a five-mile radius.”

“I’ll watch the prospects,” Vienna volunteered. “And whatever I find out, I’ll bring to the table before church next week. After that, we make our move.”

“We all good with that?” Crash asked.

“Aye,” Zach and I said together.

“So it’s agreed,” he banged the gavel once more. “Let’s just hope this is the right decision.”