Medic was on the other camera, trying in vain to save Itchy. He was gesticulating to the others and leaning over him to start CPR. He worked on him until we showed up on the camera. Someone paused the screen on that image, and everyone remained silent.
I kept my eyes on the screen, my fists clenching against my knees. War moved and went to turn everything off before returning to the table, his eyes finding mine, shifting to Connor, then back to King as he sat down.
He wanted to know if Connor was handling this okay. I looked at him. His jaw was still clenched, but he was as silent as everyone else. He was breathing okay, so I wasn’t worried.
King got to his feet and looked around. His eyes landed on every one of us, and I tried not to move when his eyes came to me.
“First of all, I want us all to take a minute to remember our fallen brother. Weston Gilmore wasn’t patched in yet, but he was one of us. His father and grandfather before him had been a part of this club. He served us well and was due to become a patched in member tomorrow. I will go to visit his mom later today to pay our respects, which I’m sure you all will do over the coming days.”
He paused and held up a fist and everyone started stomping their feet in honor of Itchy. When King dropped his hand silence fell again.
“You have been called in here because we all have had a part in what happened out there today. I want to hear all the details. War,” he turned to his son, then went back to his seat.
War got up and came around the table. He then ran through what we had all watched on the video feed.
War turned to me. “Hustle, what happened to you this morning?”
I got to my feet as was expected of me and avoided talking about everything going on that had me out on my bike. No one here needed to know Waverley was fucking with my head.
I explained I woke up having no actual plans for the day, decided to go for a ride and to get something to eat. I told them where I went, for how long and how I started heading back after War text me about Church.
When I told them about noticing the tail, Dirt asked me a few questions, trying to identify who they were, how many, if they had guns, anything to figure out whether they had, I realized, intended to attack me. I finished up by talking about my call to War and everyone showing up as an escort for me.
My voice cracked a little towards the end and I cleared my throat, showing weakness right now would not do me any favors. King didn’t want to hear excuses, he just wanted facts.
One by one, the brothers who had seen something or had information to share about what happened got to their feet and answered War’s questions. When we were through, we listened to the officers around the table tell their side of things.
Dirt explained that he told Itchy to watch out for the rest of the crew and to be ready to let them in. He headed to the clubhouse intending to check the security footage and had asked a couple of brothers to head down to the gate to help cover Itchy if required.
Before any of that could happen, Itchy sounded the alarm.
“He was a good kid,” Dirt added. “He would have made an exceptional brother.”
King glanced at him and nodded. That was it. They had all the information they needed about what happened. My eyes found War, but he gave nothing away, not at first.
I maintained eye contact and his chin lifted just a touch. Whether it was to reassure me or let me know things were coming down on me, I didn’t know.
Then King surprised me. He dismissed everyone but his officers, telling them once a plan had been hashed out, the brothers would be made aware. No one questioned it, but started shuffling out. Connor and I got to our feet too, but before I got to the door, War called out.
“Hustle, stay back.”
I nodded and glanced at Connor. His face remained stony, but he wasn’t being extended this invitation. He punched his knuckles to mine and headed out. I took my seat again and waited for everyone to leave and the door to close. For a minute, there was complete silence.
King was texting someone. Ballistic got up and headed for the food table. He grabbed a couple of six packs and came back. Tugging them from the plastic rings, he handed them out. I thanked him when he tossed one to me.
When the door opened again, I watched Kansas approach. He had a thumb drive in his hand. He inserted it into the laptop, and four screens appeared. I recognized them as the homes of the Kingsmen we had snuck into and installed cameras.
“You’ve watched it all?” King asked and Kansas nodded. “Queue it up to what we need.”
“It’s ready,” Kansas said. He wasn’t one to use many words. I assumed it was his geek nature. King didn’t dismiss him this time but indicated for him to take a seat by the equipment.
“Hustle,” King waved his hand for me to come over. “Sit,” he pointed to a seat.
No one that wasn’t an officer got to sit here, so I moved slowly, pulling a chair back.
“Relax you dumb shit,” King said. “This wasn’t your fault, and no one blames you. We need to discuss what is going on and both War and Ballistic think we need you involved. I agree,” he said pointedly.
“Yeah, unclench those cheeks,” War laughed.
