Catfish, one of the more laid-back brothers, shakes his head. “Nope. They want my opinion, they’ll ask.”
I look over to the room and see Wren offer their fist to Grudge with a smile on their face. Grudge looks at it for a second, then rolls his eyes, like he’s humoring a younger sibling, and bumps it with his own.
Wren laughs, then pats his shoulder as if reassuring him.
Grudge looks over to us and shouts, “Let’s get this meeting started.”
Wren goes to pack up their things as we walk in, but Grudge puts his hand out to stop them. “You should stay,” he says.
Wren looks confused. “I thought this was for the official club leaders only.”
Grudge huffs. “Wren, you helped write the damn thing. Stay while we discuss it.”
Catfish takes his usual chair and pats his lap. “You can come sit over here, if you like.”
Wren rolls their eyes. “I’m happy over on this side of the table.”
“I’d be happier if you were over here,” he replies.
“I’d be happier if you’d stop hitting on Wren in church,” Wraith says.
Grudge closes the door. “And I’d be happier if you all shut the fuck up.” He moves to his chair at the head of the table and takes a seat. “First, this isn’t a crisis meeting. No one fucked up. Nobody’s in trouble.”
“Solid intro,” Smoke says. “My ball sack just relaxed and dropped six inches.”
I look at our road captain. “If your ball sack just dropped six inches, we should get you to a hospital.”
He pats his junk. “Maybe I’ve just got a big ball sack.”
“If you start getting them out to compare, I’m leaving,” Wren says.
Atom laughs. “Don’t think we’ve compared genitals since we were kids. You’re safe.”
“Fuck me,” Grudge mumbles. “Can we stay on topic?”
“Yeah, shut up and listen to Wren ‘cos they’re really fucking smart,” Catfish says. “And if I say nice things about them, they might touch my b?—”
“Shut. Up.” Wren collapses into laughter as they throw a paperclip across the table at their boyfriend.
“Anyway,” Grudge says loudly.
Catfish raises a hand. “Sorry. Continue.”
“We got two things,” Grudge says. “Have you all read the plan that Jackal and Shade pulled together to level up our skills?”
There are nods around the table. “Solid plan,” Atom says.
“It was mostly Shade’s work,” I say.
“Can we add shit?” Smoke asks. “Because I’m thinking things like, fire and recovery. Like, if some dick fires a missile launcher through the clubhouse. Or forest fires come through.”
“It’s a work in progress,” Garrett says. “Add away.”
“Can we debate the shit we have to learn,” Atom says. “Because I’m not sure I have the fingers or patience for safe-cracking?”
Grudge nods. “Fitness and marksmanship are non-negotiable. The rest, we can discuss, but everyone should, at least, pick up two new skills that are valuable to the club this year. And we can’t have twenty people all training as medics and no one becoming a lock smith or bombmaker.”
“Understood,” Atom says.
