Smokey’s at the end along with Bronx, he’s the new kid I had gut checked outside the bar. I think with Ares and Exterminator getting hits in after me, the kid was traumatized enough to welcome some change. Butters and Charlie would be down there as well, but they’re dead. Can’t say that I care either. If anything, I’m glad because they were fucking scum, just like Jekyll.
Rapping my knuckles on the table, everyone’s gazes fall to me.
“First off, let’s make one thing clear, I’m not Jekyll,” I repeat myself from earlier, but this time to the brothers. “Got it?”
I’m met with ‘ayes’ all around, and surprisingly they seem excited about that aspect. It shouldn’t be a surprise I suppose with the miserable tyrant my father was. Odin comes back setting everything in the middle of us, then sits back at the bar as I instructed him to when we first arrived. Glad he’s paying attention.
“What’s the deal with the clubhouse?” We used to have a rundown building in the middle of nowhere that the MC drank and discussed business. It wasn’t anything compared to the Compounds I’ve grown used to in the past few years.
Torch speaks up, “We use it as a chop shop now when we’re home.”
“Fuck. You’ll get popped and do years in the pen.”
Blaze huffs, his eye still a deep purple from my fist finding out that he touched my woman’s hair. “A few of us tried to say that, but you know when Jekyll got an idea, it was no stopping him.”
“Who ran it?”
“That was O’s contribution.”
I swear to Christ my eyes bug the fuck out of my head. “My brother?”
Everyone nods, not meeting my eyes.
One, two, three, fifty, a hundred, think of Princess, don’t break anyone’s face, and just breathe.
“No more. It ends now. Blaze, find someone you can hire to gut it out and fucking burn everything.”
He chuckles. “And how do we pay for this?”
“Who usually handles the books?”
“Charlie, but there wasn’t much of anything to be counted. The money we’re using now to be here was from our recent drug sale on the way over here.”
“Fuck. Okay, was it a decent pay out?”
“We each got a five hundred dollar cut.”
“You fuckin’ with me right now?” How can you do a drug run and only cut your men five bills for serious possible jail time? That doesn’t build loyalty; it builds rats and sellouts when they’re presented with more paper.
“Odin, call my woman and ask her to stop by with five g’s.”
Everyone stares at me, shocked and silent.
“That’s bad business and bad dealing. I’ll give you each a grand. Don’t go screw it off on blow. Save a few hundred for shit you need to take care of. From now on, we’ll be voting on club business. Temporarily, I’d like for Blaze to sit as my VP until Odin is ready. It could be two years or ten, who knows. Torch deserves the Death Dealer patch. Smokey if you’re still decent with numbers, you can start up the books and trade your patch for Treasurer? We need a decent cash counter, and I’ll be paying close attention to all of it. Bronx, we’ll give it a little time and see if you get something other than member. Everyone agree to that?”
They all reply ‘aye’ except Blaze.
“I’ll lose my Death Dealer patch? But what happens when Odin is ready to take over as VP?”
“You can have your Death Dealer patch back, or we can vote on a different one if that’s what you want.”
“Okay, I vote ‘aye.’”
“We’ll be recruiting, but not many. I want us to get our feet on the ground and adapt before growing too much. There were at least nine more when I was at home. Where is everyone?”
Blaze takes a drink of water and replies since everyone else stays quiet. “Dead.”
“Fuck.” I shake my head, nine dead, plus the two from the other day, eleven members. That’s horrible. “I’m meeting with the Prez from the Oath Keepers Charter here later. I want to see if he’ll offer us a patch over and a few potential business partners.”