Chapter thirty:
present day
Jesse
The chapel was standing room only. A room full of pissed-off bikers stared back at me, waiting for me to say something.
The room was tense, and I looked around the table, my gaze straying across the faces of my brothers, my family, and wondering what they thought about the proposition. It had been a long fucking day. Make that a long fucking three months. But today was the start of something new, and I was starting to realize that new didn’t always mean bad. New could be a good thing.
It was a start, but I had a long way to go.
We had the club’s national president—Marbles—on speaker phone, and after talking to him about our suggestion, he’d agreed. Surprisingly easily. Fucker caught me right off guard, because I thought it would have taken way more convincing than it had. But after a quick check of Hardy’s accounts, it was obvious that he’d been scamming our club out of thousands of dollars for a long fucking time. No clue where that money was, but I had no doubt that we’d would find it.
“So, we’re going to vote on it now. I know it’s been a lot of information to take in, but you’ve all seen the proof, you’ve heard from Marbles, but we won’t move forward without every one of you on board.” Rider looked across the table, his expression grim. “It’s time for us to clean house, and we’re going to need a strong leader for the job. One we can trust.” He turned to look at me and I nodded approvingly.
The blinds were turned, stopping anyone from looking in, but the clubhouse was full. The day’s events had far-reaching repercussions, but ones I think a lot of us were ready for.
“A show of hands, please, brothers,” Rider said.
“Not even a damn question,” Pops yelled from the end of the table, raising his hand. Dumb fucker had come on over just for the meeting, even though he should have been resting up at home after his stroke.
Slowly, the room filled withayesand raised hands. Dom was the last to raise his hand, giving me a slow grin as he pretended to look thoughtful for a second before doing so.
“Fucking aye,” he said with a chuckle.
Brother just chuckled! I shook my head. Day was fucking crazy, all right.
Rider looked across at me. “It’s unanimous, brother.” He slid the gavel across to me and stood up, and we swapped seats before we both looked across the table. “Brothers, meet your new president, Jesse James Hardy—one of the youngest fucking presidents on record.” He patted my shoulder. “But he’s gonna be one of the best.”
The room was filled with cheers and claps and then everyone began to filter round to shake my hand and give me their thanks. When it was Gauge’s turn, his expression was grim. He’d just got in from a fucking goose chase errand that Hardy had sent him on. Turns out, he’d been doing that a lot. And Gauge had fallen for it. Rider started to clear the room, and Gauge and I stepped to one side to garner a little more privacy.
“It ain’t no secret that I ain’t never been a fan of yours, Jesse.” His hard look bored into mine. “And after the shit you pulled on my little girl these past few months, I should probably put you in the ground myself—you broke her fucking heart so I’d have every right to, no doubt.”
I nodded in agreement. Because how could I not? Fuck me, if that was my daughter I would have already ripped my dick off and shoved it down my own throat.
“But we all fucked up recently, that much is true.” Gauge sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. He shook his head and his gaze softened from a glare to a hard stare. “This is your one chance, Prez.” He said my title with disdain. “After this, you ain’t got no more. You feel me?”
I nodded. “I do.”
“She’s been alive longer than I’ve known her, and fuck me if she isn’t fucking amazing. I ain’t gonna let you go chasing her away now that I’ve finally got to know her. She’s too important to me. You sort this shit out, if you can, and if you can’t, you find a way to make it okay for her to stick around either way. If she’s done with you, you fucking accept that. That shit ain’t up for debate.” He patted me on the shoulder and walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
When I turned around, Rider was standing there waiting to talk to me. He came forward with a smile and we shook hands.
“Went well?” he asked.
“Sort of,” I replied. “I mean, I’m still breathin’, so there’s that.” We laughed together and then he frowned.
“Your brothers and I thought of your road name, finally,” he said, and I grinned.
“Yeah?” I asked, having no clue what it could be. Some brothers went their whole lives without getting one, but a road name was a badge of honor.
“Shooter,” Rider replied. “You got skills, mad skills, Shooter—the sort that’s in your blood. Whoever your father was, the man knew his way around a gun. The way I saw you shooting today, it’s obvious that he passed those genes on to you.”
“Shooter,” I said, letting the name settle on me. It sounded strange, being given the name Shooter for the way I had killed Hardy, but it also felt right. “Shooter it is, then.”
Rider smiled, but it fell quickly. “I’m sorry about Butch,” he said.
“I’m sorry about a lot of things, but sorry don’t change the way they are.” I shrugged.
