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Tusk
P rospects don’t attend church. Our job is to stand guard while the brothers meet to conduct club business. We’re their eyes and ears at the front gate, the ones looking out for their old ladies and protecting club property while they make the important decisions that keep the club running.
Earlier this week, I was invited to attend church with the brothers, and that only meant one thing—I was being nominated for my patch.
Membership in the Savage Legion MC can’t be bought, begged for, or given. It must be earned through courage, dedication, and loyalty. In the months I’ve been prospecting, I’ve worked hard, put in the hours and risked my life for the club. My reward is being welcomed into a brotherhood of men who live their lives with honor, by the Savage Legion MC code. I know that code well, as I have committed it to memory.
Tonight, I walk proudly into the meeting room with nerves of steel. I’ve done good work and deserve to stand shoulder to shoulder with the brothers as an equal. I look around and see that the meeting room is packed. I notice two other prospects are present as well. They must have been invited for the same reason I was. I walk over to them, thrilled that all three of us are going to be considered at the same time.
We grab a seat and look around, wide-eyed, as the brothers talk and joke with one another. When the room is full, the smell of leather hangs heavy in the air, with a side order of gas and bike grease. Our club officers take their seats at the table in the front of the room. There are over thirty brothers at this point, far too many to fit around a single table. That’s why we sit in neatly formed rows, waiting for the meeting to be called to order.
Siege, our Prez, comes to his feet. If the framed photographs hanging in the bar are any indication, he’s the spitting image of his father, Claw, who founded the club almost thirty years ago. Having never attended church before, I listen intently as he goes through old business, talking about a job we just did for Zen, our IT guy. I had a hand in that myself. Dutch, who’s our club treasurer, speaks about financial matters. Eventually, Siege opens the floor for the brothers to speak.
Zen thanks every man who helped protect his old lady and track down the men intent on doing her harm.
Pride surges in my chest when Zen nominates me and the other two prospects for membership. Dutch seconds the motion, and Siege motions for me to stand and speak. “Let’s start with Wade.”
We have a longstanding tradition of prospects giving speeches to convince the brothers they would make strong, reliable members of the Savage Legion. I know what I’m gonna say. The first moment I set foot in the Savage Legion clubhouse, I was down on my luck after my ex cheated on me with my brother-in-law. These men helped me deal with all that shit, and if it wasn’t for them—and especially Tex—I really don’t know what I’d have done. When Siege invites me to speak, I stand up and tell it to the brothers straight.
“Tex brought me to this clubhouse when life had done its best to kick my ass. I wasn’t about to lay down and die. So, I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and fought like hell to get my life back on track. I couldn’t have done it without the Savage Legion. This is the place where I found the opportunity to be part of something that gives my life true meaning. I’ll ride, shoot, and even kill if I have to in order to protect this club.”
The room breaks out in excited whispers as Siege rises from his seat once more. He calls for a vote. Excitement blooms in my chest when all my club brothers’ hands shoot up. I expected there to be a few holdouts, seeing as I haven’t been prospecting for long, but there weren’t any. Siege’s face lights up with satisfaction as he watches me come forward to accept my new cut.
“Alright, that’s unanimous. Tusk, step forward and get your new cut.”
When I approach, Dutch holds out a new black leather cut. He hands it to me with my new club name facing out. Tusk —a good, solid club name, and I know exactly where Siege got it from. I recently splurged a little to get my bike customized, and my front forks are shaped like two large tusks. I think it looks pretty damn badass.
I slide off my prospect’s cut and slip the new one on. I know I’m blowing that cool demeanor I had hoped to keep, but I can’t keep the smile off my face for anything.
I sit down beside the other two prospects who are being voted in today. Their awestruck expressions make me realize we’re entering a new phase of club life together.
Bear and Ghost get voted in with no problems. Good club names all around. Well, Nick’s is a little sketchy, but it’ll grow on him. To be honest, it sounds pretty cool, until you learn that he got stuck with the moniker because women kept ghosting him.
We spend some time being congratulated by the brothers, and for the first time, I honestly feel like I fit in. Tex comes over to shake my hand, as do most of the others. He was the one who introduced me to the Savage Legion. I will forever be grateful to him for that.
***
When we finally migrate out to the bar area, it’s decorated with black streamers and such. The tables in the bar area are groaning with food and there’s enough cakes and cookies to give anyone a sugar-high for days.
Speaking of sweets, my favorite club girl flies into my arms the moment she sees me. “You did it, baby. You’re a fully patched member of the Savage Legion MC!”
Her hand comes up to touch my name patch, but I grab her wrist and shake my head. Touching a biker’s patch is considered disrespectful, and I wasn’t about to let myself get disrespected right out of the gate.
Zen slaps me on the back. “Damn right. Tusk worked his ass off to earn that patch.”
His old lady, Lexi, smiles at me. “Congratulations. You earned it the hard way, by fighting off killers and all sorts.”
I chuckle because she’s not wrong about that.
The new club girl, Silver, approaches us with two drinks in her hands. She hands me one and says, “Have a celebration shot with me and tell me all about how you got the club name, Tusk.” She glances down at my crotch as she says my name.
I reach out to take the drink from her, but tell her, “You’re wasting your time carrying drinks to me, darlin’.”
She gives Brittany the side-eye before telling me, “You don’t want to spend time with the same old club girl on the most important night of your life, do you?”
Brittany makes a disgruntled sound in the back of her throat. But it’s Lexi who gives Silver a warning she doesn’t heed. “You’d best back off unless you want Brittany to scratch your eyes out.”
“I’d like to see her try. I’m—”
That’s as far as she gets before my girl grabs the other shot out of her hand, drinks it down in one go, and then snatches off the long, glamorous ponytail Silver is wearing.
Me? I honestly thought that was her real hair.
When Silver surges forward, I grab her with one arm, intending on moving her to one side. Unfortunately, she stumbles on her damn stripper heels and lands flat on her ass.
When she tries to get back up, Rigs is there in an instant with his hand around her arm. His old lady, Mattie, is at his side with a frown on her face. I know what it looks like, like me, a newly patched in brother manhandling one of the club girls. She looks from me to Brittany, and then to Silver, and asks, “What in the world is all this about?”
Silver looks her up and down for a second before asking, “Who the hell are you?”
Rigs glares at her. “That’s my old lady, and she asked you a question. You might want to answer it.”
Silver freezes for a second before turning to Mattie. “I’m Silver. I’m a new club girl. I offered Tusk the opportunity to enjoy his celebration night.” Shooting Brittany a quick glance, she adds, “You know, instead of the same tired old thing.”
Rigs asks in his deep, gravelly voice, “And what did Tusk say to that invitation?”
Turning cagey, she states quickly, “We were still talking about it when Brittany attacked me, and then Tusk shoved me.”
Speaking up, I tell Rigs the truth. “I told her she was wasting her time with me. And Lexi warned her that my favorite girl was gonna retaliate if she didn’t back off. I didn’t shove her, I tried to stop her attacking Britt, and she tripped over her fucking heels.”
Silver takes a step back, with Rigs’ hand still firmly clamped around her arm. “Brittany’s been jealous of me since I got here. Why are the brothers getting involved in arguments between club girls anyway?”
I tell her, in no uncertain terms, “Brittany isn’t a club girl anymore. Now, she’s my girl.”
Silver’s facial expression morphs into one of stubborn annoyance. “She’s not wearing your cut. That means you’re still a single brother, and any of us has the right to approach you.”
Pointing my finger directly in her face, I tell her angrily, “It’s none of your damn business if Brittany is wearing a property cut or not, everyone here knows she’s mine.”
Rigs tugs Silver around to face him. “You’re confused. We’re not here to entertain club girls. You’re here to entertain us. That means you have no rights at all when it comes to the brothers, especially if they tell you to take a hike. Since you seem confused about the way things work at this clubhouse, I’m gonna restrict you from approaching any of the brothers for the next three months. If they want you, they’ll let you know.”
“That’s not fair,” she complains. “You have an old lady, so none of this affects you.”
Mattie speaks up. “Maybe a ten-day ban would be more effective. It’ll give her a chance to think before she argues with the first brother that was ever patched into this club. Give her the benefit of the doubt, she’s new.”
Silver gasps, but before she can quarrel with Mattie, Rigs speaks up. “I agree with my old lady. Get your stuff and get out, Silver. Don’t show your face in the club for a full ten days. When you come back, the three-month-long ban on approaching brothers stands.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but Rigs cuts her off. “I haven’t forgotten the trouble you started with my son’s girl, and we’ve already wasted way too much time on you tonight. If you open your mouth again, it’ll be a six-month ban from the clubhouse and any club-related activities.”
Her mouth snaps shut. The moment Rigs lets go of her arm, she grabs her purse from a nearby table and stalks out of the clubhouse.
I pull Brittany close and look down at her worried face. We both know that she escalated this situation, but I don’t care. Everybody here knows we’re together, so Silver rolling up on me like that was a shitty thing to do.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. She was warned that you were going to react if she didn’t stop. She could have avoided all that by leaving when I told her no. That ban she just got was for not being able to keep her mouth shut when Rigs disciplined her.”
Mattie says soothingly, “Don’t let one wild club girl ruin your patch party. Why don’t the two of you go fill up a plate and forget that ever happened?”
Rigs slaps me on the shoulder. “Yeah, Mattie’s right. You only get one patch party. Might as well kick back and enjoy it with your favorite girl.”
“I ain’t about to let any one person spoil my night. Life’s too short to get angsty about stupid shit.”
“Glad to hear it, and congratulations again on getting patched into the Savage Legion. You worked hard for it, and I’m proud to call you a brother.”
Rigs’ sincere words ring true to me.
I grin at him, noticing how his old lady cuddles herself closer when he puts his arm around her. “Thank you, Rigs. It’s an honor to be part of the Legion.”
When we go our separate ways, Brittany is quiet. I don’t quite know what to make of it, because she normally never shuts up. I know she gets on people’s nerves sometimes, but not mine. I like the way she hovers around me like I’m the most important thing in her world and how she’s thrilled as fuck to spend time with me.
She usually talks a mile a minute, like she wants me to know everything going on in her life.
I love that shit. She’s like a breath of fresh air compared to my ex-wife, Gina.
Brittany has had a hard life. That’s why she’s so jealous and fiercely protective over the few good things in her life. I’m grateful that she sees me as something worth fighting over. My woman has fire in her belly, and it shows in how quick she is to knock a club girl back, in the way she’s quick to tell someone off, and most especially in the way she fucks. She’s an uninhibited demon in the sack.
I used to be married and only ended up getting sex on the rare occasion when all the planets were in proper alignment, and I begged hard enough. Turned out it was because she was fucking her sister’s husband. I shove that shit to the back of my mind. Truth be told, if all that hadn’t gone down, then I’d never have ended up at the Savage Legion clubhouse.
I’ve been here for almost a year now, and me and Britt have been together pretty much since the first weekend. I’d have put her in a property cut, but prospects don’t have that privilege because they aren’t fully patched brothers. I’m gonna have to rectify that pretty damn quick, but I like the idea of surprising her with a property cut for our one-year anniversary.
The bar area is packed, so we carry our plates out to the patio to get some peace and quiet. When we’re settled at one of the tables, I ask, “Wanna tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart?”
She lowers her eyes and shoves the food around on her plate with her fork. “I’ve been trying really hard to act right so you would be proud of me. Tonight, I embarrassed you by letting Silver get under my skin. I’m sorry, babe.” She glances up at me before continuing, “I wanted your patch party to go off without a hitch and spent the better part of the afternoon hanging streamers and making everything nice. I feel terrible for flying off the handle that way and I don’t want to see you ridiculed by the other brothers because I used to be the meanest club girl in the clubhouse.”
I throw my head back and laugh. When my head comes back down, I look her dead in the eyes and say, “You’re agonizing over a bunch of shit you don’t have to worry about. I don’t give a damn what the other brothers think about my choice in women. I think a lot of them would love to have you for an old lady but are afraid they can’t handle your free spirit. As for Silver, she’s never gonna take me from you. I honestly keep forgetting her name until you say it out loud.”
Brittany gives me a rueful look. “How can you forget her name? She dresses in silver all the time.”
I pick up a piece of steak with my fork and tear off a big bite. She stares at me like I’ve got two heads. I point at her with my fork as I swallow the bite. “I don’t pay attention to what she wears, but I can tell you what you were wearing the first night we met.”
Her eyes fly open with surprise. She picks up her knife and fork, slices off a delicate strip of steak, and then cuts it yet again before saying, “Really? I don’t even remember what I was wearing that night.”
I take a little trip down memory lane. “I remember it was my first night at the clubhouse, and I was torn up about my wife cheating and the pending divorce. I remember thinking this clubhouse was full of supermodels—women that wouldn’t be interested in me in a million years.”
Some of her anxiety falls away. She swallows the bite in her mouth and tells me with a smirk, “That just goes to show how much you know about beautiful women. Any woman in this club would consider herself lucky to get you.”
“Shush, woman. I’m trying to tell a fuckin’ romantic story here.”
She just grins and takes another bite of steak.
I take a moment to gather my thoughts before continuing. “You were wearing a black leather skirt, knee-high boots, and a belly shirt that said, ‘I’m all ears.’ I remember the shirt had pink Playboy bunny ears on it. I thought it was cute, and you were drop-dead gorgeous. Seeing you move around the room was like watching a dark tornado—you were flirting with all the brothers, getting into arguments with the other club girls, and getting all the attention. I watched you drinking one shot after another while you kept playing music on the jukebox.”
“Yeah, I’ve always been a bad girl,” she murmurs unrepentantly.
Brittany was a woman who could admit to her flaws. I had to respect her honesty.
“You got into it with another club girl for swiping your drink. She was stupid enough to throw the first punch, and you knocked her upside the head with a beer bottle. When all the brothers were giving her first aid and making a big fuss, you stumbled over to the bar and sat beside me.”
Her face finally lights up because my story makes her remember. “I do remember that night. You were sad, and I wanted to see what your smile looked like, so I took you to one of the rooms with the intention of putting a smile on your face.”
Pride surges in my chest, knowing that she remembers she’s the one who came onto me.
“Only, like you said, I was falling-down drunk. Instead of having sex with me, you took care of me. I remember you running me a bath and helping me wash my hair. The next thing I knew, you were drying me off and carrying me to bed. I woke up the next morning with a raging headache to find you’d left me some painkillers and water on the bedside table along with a note telling me that maybe we could try spending the night together when I wasn’t so intoxicated.”
I keep eating and let her carry on talking.
“I was confused at first about why you didn’t just take what you wanted from me. After I took the pain pills and my headache eased up, I realized it was because you were a gentleman. No one had ever thought of taking care of me before. It was always me doing my best to take care of them. That’s when I knew you were something special, someone I wanted to get to know better. I didn’t drink for a solid week, waiting for another opportunity with you.”
I smile because she isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know. I waited to see if she was going to latch onto another man or wait for me. She waited, and here we are—exclusive for almost a year.
“You were worth the wait, sweetheart. I’m sorry the men you’ve known didn’t treat you right. You deserve all the nice things that life has to offer.”
She grins at me. “Aw, you say the sweetest things, babe. Always remember, you’re the man who restored my faith in humanity.”
I take a drink of my beer as she keeps talking. I’m not normally one for soppy shit, but this woman makes me want to do it all. The sooner I officially make her my old lady, the better.