His eyes flew open. “She’s your old lady now?”
“Yeah, she sure as hell is. She’s wearing my property cut and I ain’t giving her back to an ignorant fuck like Viper.”
Tank gave me a resigned nod. “Fair enough. I didn’t know she was your old lady. That changes everything.”
When everyone else hit the road again, we joined them. Ten minutes later we pulled into an abandoned feed lot.
The loading bay doors were open, and I could see a multitude of brothers from different clubs were already assembled inside. As we walked inside, I could see cuts from the Sons of Rage, Molten Horse, and Iron Verdict. A good half of the men present were young and wearing Stolen Oath cuts. Viper had brought most of his crew and wanted to make sure everyone was aware just how quickly his club was growing.
Halfway across the room I heard the first negative comment about our club. A voice rose from the crowd, sneering and unafraid, “Well what have we got here. A bunch of arsonists.”
Every man in the Dark Slayers just kept walking. Some clubs would have jumped at the chance to beat someone’s ass over a comment like that, but not us. Our one and only goal was to cast our vote and get the hell out of here.
I stood against the wall, watching everything that went on. My job was to protect my club brothers when they were distracted with the business at hand.
I caught sight of Viper in the crowded warehouse. He was strolling around wearing a clean cut and ripped jeans sagging off his ass. I hated everything about him, his swagger, his arrogance, and most especially his cruelty. He was looking for someone, searching the room visually, even going so far as to shove people aside. When his eyes landed on Storm, he made a beeline for him. By contrast, Storm barely acknowledged Viper when he saw him approaching.
Viper stopped in front of him and clapped him on the shoulder. It was the kind of gesture that read as brotherhood from twenty feet away.
“Storm,” he said. “I’m glad you made it.”
“Viper,” Storm said by way of a greeting.
But the damage was done. I watched two Sons of Rage officers exchange a glance across the room. I saw the Molten Horse club president’s expression close down. Being seen with Viper was costing us the respect of other clubs.
The council elder was an Iron Verdict man named Cross. He was over sixty and had been holding the council together through grit and determination alone for over thirty years. He called the room to order without raising his voice. The noise died away fast when he spoke because the brothers were interested in what he had to say.
“I’ll explain how this works for anyone who is new. Vulture’s Pride has disbanded. Their territory is now unclaimed. Unclaimed territory is a problem for every club in this region, not just the ones with a border claim. The clubs in this region decided long ago to assign unclaimed territory to save a bunch of infighting.” He paused and looked around the room. “This council exists to solve small problems before they turn into big ones.”
Mostly the faces of the assembled brothers remained neutral.
“Every president in this room has a vote. The majority rules. The decision we make here is binding under council rules and that means exactly what it sounds like. If you win the vote and are assigned this territory, it will be yours for as long as you can hold it.”
After a brief pause, he explained. “That means the council awards claim. It does not guarantee it. We don’t enforce borders or prop up clubs that can’t hold what they’ve been given. Whoever leaves here with Vulture’s territory must defend it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Now that we have that out of the way, who wants to make the first argument.”
The first club to make their case was one by the name of Ironbound. They had claimed the territory north of Vulture’sold stomping ground long ago. I remember them clashing with Vulture’s Pride in the distant past.
Their president chose his words carefully, “We share a forty-mile border with Vulture’s old territory. We’ve got the manpower to stabilize it and take over his existing businesses without undue conflict. We’re obviously the best choice to take the territory.”
The second club to step up was a small, scrappy club that called themselves the Dust Devils. They had been existing along the western edge of Vulture’s territory for years without causing trouble. Their president was younger than most of the men in the room. He just stood up, put his hands on the table and delivered his speech with very little fanfare.
“I know you are all busy men, so I won’t waste your time. You already heard a very good reason to choose Ironbound. What I’m going to give you is who really has the capacity to fuckin’ hold it.”
He pulled a folded piece of paper from his cut, opened it and held it up for everyone to see. It looked like a hand-drawn map of the area in dispute. I squinted to read it from my position several yards away. He’d marked out areas indicating what other clubs were located around Vulture’s old borders.
“The Dust Devils have thirty-eight fully patched members,” he said, tapping the paper. “We all live and work within minutes of Vulture’s western line. We’ve ridden the back roads, interacted with the locals, know who all the troublemakers are and have even cultivated a friendly relationship with local law enforcement.” He glanced around the room before continuing, “If you want to know which club can actually hold this territory on a day-to-day basis, it’s us. It always has been us. Vulture saw having us on his western border as an asset. That’s why he never had a problem with us being so close.”
Cross stepped forward. “Okay, you’ve both made your cases.” Turning to the assembled crowd, Cross asked, “If there are other interested parties, now’s the time to speak up.”
That’s when Viper stepped forward, bold and sure of himself. When he spoke, there was no trace of the hothead that had pulled a knife on Vulture at the PATCH rally. Instead, his voice rang out with practiced authority.
“I know you’re all wondering why I want this territory. I’m not gonna lie, me and Vulture did not see eye to eye. Everyone here saw us fight, so it would be foolish to pretend otherwise. I won’t insult your intelligence because you’d see through it.
After pausing to look around, he continued, “But there ain’t nobody who stood up here today that has the numbers that Stolen Oath does. We’ve got fifty-seven patched brothers, and we’re growing every day. What’s gonna happen is you’re gonna give me this territory by vote or I’m gonna take it by force from whoever you award it to. Either way my club will have that territory.”
Cross crossed his arms. “That sounds like a threat to me, and we don’t respond well to threats around these parts, Viper. Am I gonna have to bar you from council meetings or can you act decent?”
