I trembled at the thought.
My father loved the Black Reapers, or at least what they had once been. He loved them when Roger Carter was around. He always said that the Black Reapers were the reason he had not gone to jail and that I had even been born in the first place. Was that something that I could throw away so easily?
I mean, I had walked away because that club had murdered my father. So, yes, maybe it was something I could easily throw away.
But walking away from it was a lot easier than letting the Fallen Saints demolish it entirely. In some ways, it was like the difference between breaking up with a crazy girlfriend and then hoping someone killed her—one was common sense, the other was just cruelty.
I guess maybe my opinion on the topic wasn’t as strong as I had thought it was.
“Phoenix?”
“Huh?”
“Do you have an opinion on this?”
I blushed as I felt caught red-handed. I’d gotten so lost in my own little world that I had failed to pay attention to the meeting. It wasn’t my first meeting, but it was one of my first, and anything like this was not going to help my cause.
“I... hmm,” I said, trying to find the right words. “Well...”
I felt the weight of all eyes on me. I shot a glance at Cole, who looked concerned. I ignored it as best as I could, swallowed, and spoke.
“I think as long as we’re not being attacked, why do anything to provoke the beast?” I said. “It’s not like we can take these actions and not draw some attention. Whatever we do will get noticed somehow. So...”
“Look, we’re dodging the elephant in the room here,” Cole said, looking frustrated. “I don’t think we have the manpower to take on the Saints if they come for us right now.”
Whatever people around the table were doing, they all stopped right there. No one was saying a word right now; no one was doing anything but looking at Cole.
And as much as I hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong. The Saints, even with the casualties we had inflicted—why did I just say we? I’m not with the Black Reapers—had a numbers advantage. The Black Reapers had a technological and resource advantage, but it’s not like they had drones or automated machines that could attack the Saints on their behalf.
And we were newer, with fewer members, fewer weapons, less experience in leadership, and rusty combat skills. I had to give props to Cole, he would not have hit such a heavy topic in the past, but that didn’t mean that honesty translated to preparedness.
“No one here wants to admit such a thing, least of all me as President. I don’t want to acknowledge that we’d get overrun. But I didn’t get this club off the ground by being arrogant or blind. Now, on the other hand, if we collaborate...”
Cole didn’t finish his words. We all knew what he would have said if he had kept going.
But there was no way that I was going to be the one to finish those words. Not when it meant going back tothoseReapers.
“I would love to believe that there’s something that’ll allow the Saints to crumble and us to live our lives here in Ashton, but right now, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Cole said after a long pause. “Something is going to have to happen to invigorate the Black Reapers to punch above their weight.”
Let’s hope so. Maybe the two clubs can wipe each other out and then we can be left standing to celebrate over their graves.
“For the time being, I think we remain neutral,” Cole said. “We obviously aren’t going to ally with the Saints, but I don’t think anyone at this table or in this room is in a major rush to join forces with the Black Reapers.”
I actually laughed out loud at that. I didn’t mean to be so rude as to sound mocking, but really, join forces with the Black Reapers? After Lane and Butch had come for an attack on us just days ago? After they’d had the audacity to come to my father’s funeral?
If we somehow got sucked into a battle between those two MCs, it would quickly turn into a game of rock-paper-scissors, with all three sides attempting to wipe out the other. We’d just be smart enough to stay above the fray until the last possible second, claiming victory by default.
Cole led a discussion about a few other topics, such as a potential revenue source opening a liquor store down the road, the opportunity to throw a community BBQ, and a couple more points, but none were of any importance to me. I voted for the exploration of a liquor store, figuring the chance to make money and have access to better alcohol was a plus, and I voted against the community BBQ. It was too similar to an activity the Black Reapers had done just before my father’s death.
Cole ended the meeting, but just as I started to stand, Cole asked me to stay behind.
“Won’t be long.”
I hated that everyone knew that I was being called to meet with Cole, as if the teacher had just announced I needed to go to the principal’s office. I got why Cole wanted everything to be out in the open and public in contrast to his brother, but it’s not like being open to the world meant spreading your legs in public and inviting everyone to take a peek inside.
Cole and I walked over to a corner, out of earshot but not eyesight of everyone. I suppose one good thing, though, about open spaces like this being so common was that it didn’t really surprise anyone when I went over there. No one kept staring at the two of us.
“What’s up?” I said. “Something about my dad?”
