I chuckled at the thought.
“Care to share what’s so fucking funny, Wasp?”
I shrugged.
“Then shut the fuck up and listen. ALL OF YOU!” Sabbath ordered, his voice rising too many decibels.
The guy seriously needed to take an enema chill pill. I’d shove that shit so far up his ass if it meant the meathead would calm the fuck down. These moments of rage were already getting old… fast.
“What’s this meeting about?” Snyder asked.
Sabbath’s devilish eyes fell on our fellow brother, the one he dubbed his VP, and you could see the tension between them. The way Sabbath’s brows arched with manic delusion showed how much tension was brewing between them.
“This is about the Crows. This is about Sandman. This is about…” his voice trailed off, knowing his next words were delusional manifestations of his own damn mind.
Or were they?
My grin spread as I ran my finger under my nose, smelling the remnants of his woman on my fingertips. He met my devious gaze, not knowing I tasted his precious property minutes before entering this room.
And how precious it truly was. The way her knees quaked as I ran my hand up her leg, following the trail of her cum that leaked down her thighs from a simple command.
Her submissiveness didn’t go unnoticed.
Sabbath shook his head. “Look, the Crows need to pay for what they did to my girl. I want Hoax’s head. I want to pluck every damn Crow off the road and leave them bleeding out on the pavement. The Crows need to die, and we’re going to be their executioners!”
He looked around the room, his eyes briefly falling on Ranger before he said the next thing, “The club is a man down. Sandman’s out. The dude is two fruit loops away from a looney bin. That accident really fucked with his head, so I need one of you other bastards to step up and take his place as my Enforcer.”
“You can’t do that!” Ranger argued. “You can’t just strip him of his patch just because he’s mentally working through some shit.”
Sabbath stepped up to Ranger, obviously preying on the smaller brother. “Who’s going to stop me? You? See this fucking patch? It means I can do whatever the fuck I want. And right now, I want a new Enforcer.”
He looked around the room, eyes falling on all the members and prospects standing against the wall. “Which one of you assholes is man enough to fill the big man’s shoes?”
Nobody spoke up. Nobody wanted to take his place. Sandman was the heart and brawn of this club, and everyone knew it.
He slammed his hands on the table again. “Somebody fucking step up or I’ll start shooting.” He pulled out a gun, but was instantly disarmed by Snyder. It was a glorious sight.
“You need to calm the fuck down, Prez. Yeah, Sandman’s down, but nobody here wants to take his place. He’s a part of this club as long as he’s still breathing.”
“Are you fucking challenging me, Snyder?”
“And if I am? What the fuck you gonna do about it?”
Before any of us could react, Sabbath’s fist connected with Snyder’s face. The sickening crack of bone breaking beneath his skin echoed through the room, rendering all of us speechless.
“You motherfucker!” Sabbath shouted as he threw his whole body into Snyder and both men crashed into the wall. “I’m sick of you always defying my orders. You don’t deserve that VP patch!”
Snyder’s fingers dug into the collar of Sabbath’s cut, then slammed him down on the table, almost breaking it. The collective gasp that filled the space was glorious.
It was chaos. Lovely, beautiful, chaos. I needed popcorn. This shit was gold.
Snyder’s fists were like a flurry of rabbit punches. The rage in the man’s eyes left me awestruck. He was going to kill Sabbath.
If we let him…
Then again, maybe we should.
“Oh fuck,” someone shouted from behind me as Snyder’s fingers clutched Sabbath’s neck, squeezing and crushing his windpipe.