Everyone was still silent, the heaviness of this moment weighing on everyone’s shoulders. But as I took my new seat at the table, staring at the men who sat before me, it was like the penny dropped. This was really fucking happening, and I was now responsible for everyone in this crew.
Ourcrew.
Mycrew. And I would go on a rampage through hell in order to give everyone here what they really wanted. Revenge.
I placed my hands on the table, looking everyone in the eye, one by one. “Let’s go fuck up some Pythons.”
9
Onyx
Everyone was sittingaround The Hanged Man, drinking, laughing, talking shit. Alyx joined us and sat next to Granite, his hand draped around her shoulder showing ownership.
Ink and Manic had been parked by the bar for the last two hours chugging down one beer after the other, and Dutch had been chatting up the new waitress. Since the whole ordeal with Tanit, Trick had left the crew, unable to deal with the death of her sister. And with Neon still recovering, we needed to replace three waitresses but had no problem filling the positions since there were a lot of young women desperate for work around New York City. But the three waitresses had now become fair game among a bunch of horny bikers, and Dutch clearly had his mind set on a particular blonde.
“You okay over there?”
I looked up at Granite as Alyx stood and left.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I shifted. “So, what do we know about this new drug going around killing minors?”
He shrugged. “Not much. All we know is it’s not ecstasy—at least not clean ecstasy.”
“We need to find out as much as we can about this drug.”
Granite nodded. “I’m one hundred and twenty-five percent certain it’s got the Python stamp of ownership on it.”
“Yeah, me too. Ink needs to get on this ASAP.”
“I agree.”
A loud cheer erupted from the bar, and we turned to see Ink gulping down a giant mug of beer. The more he swallowed, the more beer spilled down the side of his face.
“Yeah, we’ll wait until he has the hangover from hell in the morning before we give him the order.”
Granite laughed. “See, you’re already good at this whole president thing.”
“No. I’m just good at fucking Ink around.”
As quickly as the racket started, it ended. The sudden silence made Granite and me look up, and we saw everyone was looking toward the stairs.
When I turned in my seat, I noticed why everyone was stunned into silence. It was Neon, making her way down the stairs with her crutches, and Alyx not far behind her. One stair at a time, Neon hopped down, refusing to let Alyx help her. Everyone could see the struggle, how hard it was for her to move down each step. But we could also see the determination on her face to do it by herself. To conquer those motherfucking steps like a champ.
Ink ignored the three beers in front of him, wiping his face as he watched her move. The look on his face was priceless. Something between admiration and fear. I could only guess he was blown away by her strength, yet scared shitless that she might get hurt.
As her foot without a cast hit the ground, and she looked up at us, her forehead creased with exertion, every single person in that bar stood—including Granite and me. It was one of the most powerful moments within the club, watching Neon rise to her feet, moving forward, determined to walk and live again. For the first time, I saw exactly what it was that Ink saw in her, why he refused to give up on her…because she was a fucking survivor.
Everyone started clapping, her cheeks blushing with a faint shade of pink. And while we stood there cheering for her, a tear slipped down her cheek. The feeling that swept through my chest was fierce, strong, and I wanted to burst with pride. This moment defined us.Neonfucking defined us. The Kings. This was us.
Strength.
A crew was only as strong as its weakest member, and Neon might not wear a cut, she might not be an old lady, but she was one of us. She was family. And she just proved that our fire was nowhere near burning out. The show of her inner strength had become our best motivator to take back what was rightfully ours and to protect our goddamn family. No. Matter. What.
Neon smiled, her face still painted with shades of bruised blues and yellows. “What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?”
Laughter broke out, and Ink approached her, holding a bottle of beer. I half expected her to throw another shoe at his face, but the look that crossed between them was impossible to miss. The expression on her face was that of sheer appreciation, and his of complete infatuation.
God, it felt good to see her rise above what had been done to her, a bittersweet reminder that giving up, sitting back, and allowing life’s setbacks to define and ruin you was not an option. She might have been knocked down. Trampled on. Wrecked. But she got up. And here she was, ready to face the world once more.