When they were outside, he let him go.
“Preacher, what the fuck?” Grave asked.
His men started to approach, but Preacher ignored it all.
“You think to have a vote to overthrow me? I don’t wait for that shit. You got a problem, you deal with me now. You don’t want to start squealing shit behind my back. You do it now, right here. Right now.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
Preacher hit him, three times.
Grave shoved him hard, but Preacher didn’t move.
“You have no right to the club. You’ve got us playing babysitter to your little slut.”
The moment Grave called Robin a slut, Preacher lost it. He grabbed the man around the throat, slamming him to the ground, choking him.
“You think you can do better than me? You can’t even keep your wits about you when your dick is getting sucked. The first thing you need to know is that as president, always be prepared. No matter where your dick is, you got to be able to kill. To hunt.” He didn’t let him go, relishing the sounds of Grave fighting him.
Finally, he let him go, and Grave collapsed to the ground, gasping.
Drawing his foot up, he slammed it on the man’s back and then took a step back. He turned, looking at all the men.
“You’re right, I’ve been using the club to get back at Reaper. Robin is mine. She will always belong to me, but I’ve also been working to save our reputation. A piece of shit like Reaper took one of our kids. Don’t look at this as her being my woman, or just another piece of pussy. Robin Rose Riley, that was her name. She’s Bear’s little girl and was taken right out from under our fucking noses. For two years she was gone. We couldn’t get her, and on top of that, when she does finally come to us, she’s inked and without her memory. We didn’t even fucking find her. She was taken to one of the hospitals where Randall worked.”
He looked at all of his men. “If you want to think this is about me being pissed because of my little girlfriend being used as a pawn, you’re fucking wrong. I’m working to repair the damage Reaper has placed on us. You think the docks is the only concern we’ve got?”
He waited, allowing his words to sink in. “The clubs, our businesses, everything with our patch and our mark could become a target because we look weak. You want to take me on, be my guest. Let me warn you, when I took this club on, I was all in. This club is my fucking life and I’m not going to be overthrown. You’re going to have to kill me. I will be six feet under. But before you make that final decision, let me ask you…”
He gave them time, looking at each man in turn. “Can you handle what will come after me? You think you know everything this club faces, you know nothing. Take me on, and let me show you just how fucking cruel this world really is.”
He knelt down toward Grave. “If you want the patch, earn it.”
With that, he got to his feet and walked away.
No one followed him. No one attacked.
Grave would make his decision, and when it was done, Preacher would have a public apology from the asshole.
****
“I heard through the grapevine Bishop approached Robin,” Trick said.
Reaper turned to Trick and waited for more. The ink on his chest was getting a touch-up, and a name was being added. “Bishop still lives?”
“Yes. He was gone before Preacher could get to him.”
“Not like my friend to let his son slip through his fingers. He must be getting sloppy in his older years.”
“Have you seen Robin? It’s her birthday soon, right?” Trick asked.
Reaper looked toward his friend. He wanted to hurt someone, but instead, he sat there as Trick did his work. “Yes, it is her birthday soon.”
“Why haven’t you taken her back yet?”
“None of your business. Robin will come to me when the time is right.” He looked down at the ink as Trick finished up. “Perfect.” Beneath Robin’s name, he’d added another, Bethany.
Robin would come back to him because he held someone precious and there was no way she’d ever walk away from him. Preacher could fuck up his own messes. At the end of the day, he’d won.
Chapter Thirteen
Her time with Reaper
Robin didn’t get a beating.
Much to her surprise.
No pain.
Nothing.
Just … a sense of guilt.
A month after her last attempt to run, she sat in a shopping mall surrounded by his club, waiting for Reaper to return to her.
The malls were all the same to her. The way people responded to the club’s leather cuts was nothing new. Some looked on with disgust and walked in the opposite direction. Others were more intrigued and loved the sense of adventure. Whatever their poison, Robin wanted none of it.