Ihadn’t sat at the head of the table during our meeting that morning for many reasons, most of which were purely selfish but could be masked as good club intentions. First of all, I was in no fit state to take control of a fucking go-kart, never mind a group of ten men who were all waiting on inspiration and leadership. My head was thick and the muscles in my body ached and begged for me to go back to bed. But, as promised, I’d been up at the ass-crack of dawn and I’d taken my seat with my brothers to try and find my place again.
Jedd didn’t bat an eyelid when I gestured for him to take his usual place. Neither did Kenny or Slater, but Harry’s glare was burning holes into the back of my head as ever. I was starting to think that little fat bastard had some kind of crush on my hairline, he spent that long looking at it.
The others had all said their pieces to me, welcomed me back into the family with clear heads and promises of doing whatever they could to help make the transition from prison to society as easy as possible. This was what my family was good at. This was where I realized I’d missed them and that constant support.
We’d gone through the more basic things to do withthe businesses we ran, but I’d yet to hear any of them talk about the boxing clubs and, from the looks I kept catching from across the table, I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to ask what the hell was going on and why it was being avoided. A major reason for me going to prison was so they could turn that shit around without my influence and reputation overshadowing it. Harry also acted as the club secretary, a role the two of us had previously shared due to my need to be in control of every damn thing before I’d been sent to do time. When I left, I’d given him the nod to keep track of things, and they’d all promised to make the club better, good, clean and more importantly, profitable. Yet here we were, and not one word about the boxing clubs had been spoken so far.
It was only when the table went silent and I felt all eyes fall to me as I sat beside Jedd that I let my eyes flicker around the room to read my fellow men. It was as though the quiet could only be broken by my voice. They knew it and I knew it, even though no one had spoken it. With my hands clasped out in front of me, I raised my balled up fists to my mouth and took a moment to stare down at the table my elbows were resting on. A few of the guys shuffled in their seats, the leather of their cuts creaking as they did.
“So the pawn business is good. The repo side of things is still moving along slowly.” I paused, snorting through one nostril before I let my eyes rise up to look at the man sitting directly opposite me. Owen Sinclair, the only one of us, besides me, with enough brains to take on the role of Treasurer, run the accounts, and make everything look above board, even when it wasn’t. He couldn’t collect debt for shit—we left that to the likes of Slater and Jedd—but when it came to balancing the books, Owen was the man to take a temporaryseat in yet another of my roles while I’d been gone. I couldn’t wait to relieve him of his duties. The two of us had never exactly been the best of friends. “Is that everything?”
Jedd coughed on my right and I saw Kenny’s hand rise to scratch his head out of the corner of my eye.
“That’s all there is as far as I’m concerned,” Owen answered roughly. He wasn’t much younger than Harry, and he’d always managed to piss me off whenever he’d opened his mouth. Owen carried a certain air of arrogance around with him that even I couldn’t match. Hard, covered in leather, and intelligent were three very powerful things for a man to have in his favor. He knew it and he owned it. Fucker rarely ever smiled.
My mouth turned down as I held his gaze and cocked my head. “You sure?”
“Always am.”
“Fair enough.” Turning my attention to the side, I glared at Jedd who was looking down at the table. “What about you?” I asked him, pushing my mouth into my fists.
“All covered.”
“All?”
“Those are the main things we’ve been focusing on in recent months, Drew,” he answered, looking up at me nervously.
I cast a quick glance back around all the other men at the table, narrowing my eyes on each one at some point so they knew I knew what was going on, even if I wasn’t about to say it. Dropping my hands back down, I rolled both shoulders and then stretched my neck from side to side before I cleared my throat and sighed. “Then I guess we’re done here for the day.”
Slamming my hands down hard on the surface, some of them flinched at the sudden movement, almost as thoughthey’d been waiting for me to kick off. Instead, my mouth curled into a small smile before I leaned back in my chair and crossed my ankles underneath the table. Jumpy bastards. I guess that’s what happened when you knew you were lying or hiding things from someone you were always meant to be clean with. You got nervous.
“Actually,” Harry spoke up from the other end of the room. “We need to discuss what’s happening with that seat over there.” He lifted a finger, pointing it directly at Jedd as he raised both his brows.
“What about it?” Jedd frowned, while my grin just grew fucking bigger.
“Yeah, Harry. What about it?” I mimicked.
“You know what I’m talking about, kid. Drop the arrogance and let’s deal with some real issues here. Now that you’re out, that chair belongs to you.”
Turning my head slowly, I looked back at Jedd and gave him a ‘would you look at that’ face—one that was filled with amusement and my very own version of arrogance. Seemed the hangover was turning me into more of an asshole than even I thought I was capable of. “Dissension in the ranks, Chief. What’s all that about?”
Jedd’s eyes narrowed on me, like he couldn’t quite work out who the hell sat beside him. The old version of Drew Tucker, or a new, more screwed up, post-prison version that he wasn’t going to be able to handle quite as easily as he once did. “You want your chair back? It’s yours,” he answered abruptly. “You know that.”
“I’m not saying you should just hand that shit over, but we have a system here. An order. That order got messed up when you went inside, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’trespect it now. It’s what your father would have wanted. It’s what Pete would have wanted, too. Just becau—”
Harry didn’t get time to finish what he was saying before my head snapped in his direction and my jaw tensed in a flash. The look I threw his way was enough to make him stop right there and, once again, the room was crackling with a heavy tension as everyone sat up slowly in their seats.
“He can keep the chair. I don’t want it,” I ground out. My voice was so quiet and so low, I was surprised anyone heard it at all. Swallowing down harshly, I raised both brows and let my eyes pop wide open as I stared at Harry. “I don’t want the chair. I don’t want anything. Not until I’ve earned it again and not until enough time has passed. You got that?”
“Leave it, Rogers,” Jedd whispered across the table while Owen shuffled some more in his seat opposite me.
“But…” Harry started, stopping himself as he lifted a hand over his mouth, dragging it down on both corners with his finger and his thumb.
“No buts,” I said quietly. “I’ve made up my mind.”
“And what about us?” Kenny asked from across the way. I didn’t look at him as I answered, and my eyes didn’t even shift to find Slater’s like they once would have done before I spent time inside.
“I don’t… want… the chair.”
