I strode back into the clubhouse with a rage I was barely controlling. That was three brothers put into the ground for the secrets on that drive.
“Church,” I yelled, throwing the hammer I’d been holding back into the toolbox left on the table.
The long wooden table that ran down the centre felt heavier than ever, bloodstained and carved with initials of brothers long buried, Boxer’s would be added soon.
I stood at the head. Kutte on my back, hands flat on the table and barely controlling the grief and rage.
“This is for the Knights. For Diesel, Caleb, and Boxer,” I said. “We lost Boxer. Shot by cowards who think shadows make them strong. That’s on the Fangs. But what happened after, Gage escaping, that’s on us.”
Eyes shifted in the silence.
“We’ve got fractures here,” I continued. “Some of you think I’m too far gone to lead. Some of you think I should’ve gone down with Diesel. Some think the girl out there is the reason we’re bleeding.”
Bishop flexed his jaw, but I didn’t flinch.
“Gage betrayed us. Fact. He gave names to the Fangs—Diesel, Caleb. If you think I was wrong to pull his patch and let him live so long, say it now.”
Silence.
Then Spider stood. Tall. Proud. Angry.
“I’ll say it,” he shouted. “You let Gage live too long. You let Lucy in. Now, we’re dying in pieces. Boxer wouldn’t have gone down if you’d been half the man Diesel was.”
I stepped towards him slowly until I was inches from his chest.
“Funny,” I said. “You keep saying Diesel’s name like you earned it. Where were you when he ran into that alley for Riot? When he took a bullet? When we dug his grave with our own hands?”
Silence.
“You want this patch?” I asked, dropping my kutte on the table. “Pick it up. Carry what I’ve carried.”
The room held its breath.
One by one, they stood. Riot first. Link. Keno. Savage. Tank. Bones. Even Finn, his fists clenched.
“For Boxer, Caleb, and Diesel,” Riot said quietly. “Always.”
The others echoed it, chanted it, hands slamming on the table and boots thudding on the floor.
Spider sat fast, the ground shifting beneath him.
I picked up my kutte and threw it back on.
“This club isn’t perfect. Neither am I. But you don’t tear down a house because the roof leaks. You fix it, reinforce the beams. This war isn’t over, but from this point on, no cracks. No sides. No whispers. Stand with me or walk out that door, patch off, and stay gone.”
No one moved. Not a soul.
Riot cleared his throat. “Business ain’t done. We lost an Enforcer tonight, too. That seat doesn’t stay empty.”
Murmurs rippled and eyes flicked around the table, some towards me, some towards each other.
“Name’s gotta be put forward,” I said, keeping my voice even. “We vote, same as always.”
“Keno,” Link said without hesitation. “Strong, level-headed. Don’t drink on runs. He’s earned it.”
Riot gave a slow nod. “Seconded.”
I looked around the table. “Any other names?”
