“But wait, there’s more!” Mix said in some weird game-show-host voice. I rolled my eyes, but he just grinned at me from across the table. “From what I gathered, Mr. Ashley was a big gambler. That was how he got messed up with this crowd in the first place. He used the daughter to pay his debt, but in their world, selling your family earns you a certain level of respect. It portrays them as ruthless and emotionally detached, the perfect kind of person to do the job he does.”
“So where do we go with this?” Tally asks to no one in particular.
“Seems our man didn’t stop gambling. Higher paying job, you’re no longer looking at poker games and horses. I think he’s in deep and the money he could get from Harmony is his bail out.” Mix leaned back in his chair, a cocky smirk on his face.
The kid knew his shit, he knew people, a lot of people. I don’t think there was any information that he couldn’t find out.
“You think he’s desperate?” I asked, leaning forward and resting my arms on the table.
“I think he’s more than desperate,” he confirmed, his voice laced with a darkness that Mix didn’t show very often.
“That’s why I’m worried. I don’t know what he’s going to do to get to her, but I know when crazy people get desperate, things usually get messy.” I twisted my hands together.
My Brothers all nodded and we moved on to cover other things, business reports, income, future runs.
Just as I was about to call the meeting to an end, the chapel doors swung open harshly, banging back against the walls and my pops stood between them, grinning like a fool.
With half the club’s hands on their guns ready to shoot at the intrusion, we all breathed a small sigh of relief.
“You fuckers are getting soft. I was expecting at least one of you bastards to shoot first, ask questions later.”
“Get your crazy ass out of my meeting, old man,” I laughed.
“Make me.”
My Brothers all chuckled as I slammed the gavel on the dark mahogany table, releasing them from their seats. They all embraced my father as they moved out the door, vows to meet him at the bar to celebrate his return echoing in the small space. I stayed seated, hefting my heavy boots onto the table and relaxing in my chair, knowing my pops would want to catch up before he headed out to see my Brothers. As expected he closed the doors behind him and came to sit beside me in Loose’s VP seat.
The strange arrangement didn’t go unnoticed by either of us as we eyed each other. We both laughed lightly. “It does me proud to see you in that chair, son.”
I nodded. “Still feels weird, but fucking good too.”
I’d been apprehensive about taking my father’s place as president. I feared leadership wouldn’t come as naturally to me as it did to him. Oz was born to be a leader, it didn’t matter what he did, where he was, he wasn’t afraid to take charge of a situation and own it.
“You were born into this club, Donovan.” My father was the only man that ever used my real name. He did it not to taunt or demean me, he did it because he was proud of the fact that we were family. He was proud to say that he’d given me life and named me. “The club is in your blood. Don’t ever second guess that.”
His Aussie twang always made me smile. Sometimes the boys had a hard time taking him seriously because of the terms he used and the way he pronounced words. But it only took one small laugh and he would show youwhyhe was one of the most respected men within the MC community, by putting a bullet in your knee cap.
“How was your trip?”
“Pretty fucking amazing. Haven’t spent that much time inside your mother since the summer of ‘84.”
I frowned at him. “That shit’s nasty, pops. I’m gonna be having nightmares for weeks now.”
He laughed loudly, the sound resonating in the small room. “Heard you picked up a little something of your own while you were visiting with Optimus.”
I rolled my eyes. These men, fucking outlaws my ass, they gossiped like a bunch of old women at bingo night. “Yeah, think I found her.”
My father always taught me that women were to be respected. He told me that one day I would find one that would challenge me and push my limits. That was the one I needed to hold on to. In the type of business that we’re in, a man needs a woman who can not only stand upforhim, but stand uptohim. Any one of us can find a doormat, willing to lay down, spread her legs and follow orders. But it took a special girl with fire in her veins and passion in her heart to share how she feels but to stand beside you no matter what you do with her words.
“You have to drag her down here kicking and screaming?”
I smiled. “Basically.”
“Sounds like a keeper.”
“You and Mom gonna come meet her?”
My father smirked at me across the table. “Your mother beat you to it. We weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow, but as soon as Loose called saying you were throwing the term Old Lady around, your mom was throwing me off her and demanding we come back.”