“You ready to take on the responsibility of your first crew?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ve got some young men within our recruits that need some strong leadership. You ready to provide that leadership?”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“Alright, then,” I said, addressing the group. “Unless anyone has a reasonable objection as to why Flash shouldn’t get bumped up, let’s get this man a new patch.”
The chorus of the brotherhood sang out in celebration of Flash’s promotion and my heart swelled with pride. I couldn’t have asked for abetter son or example of what I wanted this club to be. I only hope he’d never have to make the kinds of decisions I’ve had to make when it was his time to wear the crown.
After the celebration had died down, I addressed the group one last time. “Okay, we all good then? Any questions?”
Everyone shook their heads, so I banged the gavel and said, “Dismissed,” pulling Flash aside before he left.
“I meant what I said before. I see a leader when I look at you. I’m proud of you and I believe you’re gonna make a great Road Captain. Now go out there and prove me right, okay?”
Flash smiled. “Come on, Pop. You know how much I hate it when you’re right.”
“I do,” I replied. “Seriously though. I wish I was promoting you at a more peaceful time, so we could really let loose, you know?”
Flash nodded.
“We’ll have a big blow out once all this shit with the Spiders is settled.”
“I don’t care about all of that,” Flash replied.
“You should. You’ve earned this promotion and the party that usually goes along with it.”
“You know I’m not gonna automatically side with you during officer votes, right?”
I laughed. “I’ve never filled my table with ‘yes men’ and I’m not about to start now. Honestly, I appreciate that you see things fromdifferent angles than I do. It’s fucking frustrating sometimes, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t see the value of your insight.”
“Jesus, Dad. That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“You know what? I take it all back. Gimmie the patch,” I said grabbing for it.
“No way, old man. No take backs,” he growled as he held the patch above his head. Exactly two inches out of my reach.
“Damn, kid. What have you been eating? You still growing?”
I was proud as a father could be. And for a few moments I was able to put aside the exhausting task of navigating the tides of the river of shit we were currently in.
He laughed as I followed him out of the room.
* * *
I’d been a member of the Dogs of Fire MC for most of my life and was by no means a stranger to death. The club had lost its fair share of members over the years due to violence, illness, or time, but this was different. This time an innocent member was executed right in front of me. A young man cut down in the prime of his life by an evil sonofabitch I never thought I’d see again. A man who’d already stolen from me.
Grip’s funeral was brief. He didn’t have muchin the way of blood relatives. He was an only child whose mother passed away seven years ago from cancer. His dead-beat dad was ten years into a thirty-five-year stretch without the possibility of parole, leaving only an uncle and two cousins to attend. The rest of the mourners were Dogs. Dogs who wanted to get out of the funeral home and into a bottle. Or, as it would come to pass, many bottles. I tried my best to deliver a thoughtful eulogy, but I could barely get through a sentence or two before being overtaken by waves of deep sorrow and burning rage.
“Even though Grip wasn’t with us for very long, I know he looked up to all of you,” I said, addressing my brothers. “I think I’m not spilling any secrets that he didn’t start out as the most promising recruit I’d ever seen, but y’all whipped him into a fine prospect. A prospect who would have worn this had he not been taken from us.” I held up Grip’s cut. A Dogs of Fire MC members patch on the back and placed it on top of his casket. “The funeral director told me that he’d see to it that Grip would be wearing this when they put him in the…”
That’s the moment I broke. I was unable to speak or move. I’m not sure how I even stayed standing. Overcome with grief for this young man who had miles of open road before him. A young man I was responsible for. It was the moment I hit rock bottom.
It was also the moment I swore vengeance against Warlock.
“To Grip!” Booker said, squeezing my shoulder and walking down the steps to the chairs in front. Maisie joined me wrapping her arms round me, already sobbing uncontrollably.
