“Too fucking right, Prez!” Jag let out a loud whistle and clapped until the whole damn room thundered with applause. “Give it up, guys.”
I sent Jag a grateful look and raised my beer high in the air. “To the Reckless Bastards, Mayhem. Being the best. Fighting the rest. Protecting what’s ours. To Mayhem!”
“Mayhem,” they all roared in unison. Even the Reckless Bastards from Texas had shown up for the changing of the guard. Most of them were in town to see Maisie get married next week, but when they found out about the vote for a new president, they all flew up early.
“Now let’s fucking party!” someone said.
Other than fighting and fucking, it was what we did best. The old ladies and the Reckless Bitches had cooked up a gang of food and there would be dozens of beers and other booze chilled and waiting for us.
I said to anyone who was listening, “I need a real fucking drink.”
I’d be lying if I said the weight of my new responsibility didn’t weigh heavy on my shoulders as well as my soul, but I was up for the challenge. More than up for it.
Cross clapped me on the back as the last of the Reckless Bastards went in search of booze, bitches, and barbecue. “How does it feel?”
I sighed and looked up at my mentor. “Surreal. Like a fucking dream come true. Heavy.”
Cross let out a loud, booming laugh and took a step forward as he finished off his beer. “Good. That’s exactly how it should feel.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “Yep. It’s a heavy responsibility, but you know how to wear that kind of weight, man. You grew up around this shit.”
“I did.” Every burned vehicle, every girl who was here one day and gone the next, it hadn’t made sense for a long time. And then one day, it all just clicked. “I’m ready.”
“No doubt, brother. No fucking doubt. Now let’s get going before your dad and uncle drink all the damn whiskey.”
“They can try, but I got a case of the good shit from Ashby to congratulate me on becoming Prez.”
“Hmmm.” Cross nodded, and I knew he had something on his mind. “What do you think of this connection with the Ashby clan?”
“Don’t know,” I answered honestly. “So far they’ve been a good ally. Now that the Black Jacks are working with The Crusaders, I think we have a good reason to work together when necessary. What’s got you worried?”
He pulled his mouth into a grim line and shook his head. “Sadie has a way of making enemies. And you know I never back down from a fight, but I don’t go out of my way to make enemies either. Being tied too closely to them could spell trouble for the MC. That’s why we haven’t done business with them lately. We did back in the day. Some gun running for the old man.”
I nodded. It was one of the thoughts that weighed heaviest on my mind. “I’m cautious, and it’s not like I can pull back now, with Maisie’s wedding only a week away.”
Cross shook his head in disbelief as we made our way to the back of the clubhouse where everyone who mattered had gathered to celebrate my new role. “Can’t believe Gunnar’s got a kid getting married. That shit is fucking surreal.”
“You’ve got a kid working for the damn NSA. Old man.”
Cross frowned and then laughed. “Hey Gunnar, this little shit just called us old. Can you believe that?”
Gunnar scowled, still an intimidating looking fucker, even with skin craggy from the Texas sun and a head full of silver fuzz. “Not too old to kick your ass, little man.”
We entered the large clubhouse that the women had turned into party central with streamers and balloons and long tables covered with all the food they knew we loved. Barbecue, barbecue, and then some more barbecue.
The bar ran the length of one wall with tubs of ice chilled beer and rows of bottles of our favorite brands of hard liquor. Music started up as soon as we entered.
I held my hands up with a laugh as Mom handed me a shot of whiskey. “It’s a good thing I only fight old men to protect the MC.”
Gunnar barked out a laugh. “Congrats, Charlie. Or should I say Baby Face?” He laughed again when I groaned at the much-hated nickname. “One of these days you’ll get some hair on your chin. And your balls, kid.”
I grabbed my junk and laughed. “I haven’t received any complaints.”
In fact, most women appreciated my youthful look, especially women of a certain age, and I was happy to make them feel young again.
“I wouldn’t complain at all.” Sherri was one of the oldest Reckless Bitches around and was hella thirsty to become someone’s old lady. “I like a smooth surface to lick up and down. To feel against my body.”