“We’re not here to discuss that,” Steel says in a clipped tone.
I chance a glance at him from across the table. From the smudges under his eyes, my guess would be that he spent the night riding, not sleeping. He probably hasn’t even been home. God, Leah is probably frantic.
I catch a few of the brothers staring openly at me. No one asks what happened, because it’s pretty common for the brothers to get into fist fights with each other down at The Canteen, the bar where we congregate, since the clubhouse is for business, sleeping, and working on bikes and shit, only.
Soon enough being now, because Steel throws me a murderous glance. I resist the urge to flip him off, because we’re not on good terms and flying the bird in his face is like throwing explosives onto a fire while standing a half a foot away and expecting to come out unscathed.
“Called this meeting because we have a traitor in this club. A man who stole another man’s property. Stabbed him in the back. He broke his vows and made a mockery of this whole fucking thing.”
There is a murmuring around the room that sounds like dull thunder off in the distance. A few of the men shift uncomfortably.
Wraith clears his throat. The little bastard is confident, seeing as he once led his own club and he’s just been patched in. This is one of his first meetings. “Does this bastard have a name?”
I nearly laugh, because damn, this is actually kind of funny, if it wasn’t so fucked up. I brace for it, for the inevitable head turn and that gray gaze to burn right through me. It happens, and Steel’s lips peel back into an ugly grimace.
“This cocksucker beside me. Your fucking VP. He’s been screwing around with my daughter. We founded this club together and he knows full well I’d have taken a bullet for him any day of the week, and this is how he repays me. I say we strip him of his patch, take his cut, and throw his traitorous ass outta the club.”
The silence around the room is deafening. Then, because Wraith has no regard for his life, he laughs. Fucking laughs.
“You mean you want to kick Edge out because he’s been fucking your daughter?”
I let out a low groan as Steel slams his chair back. Three of the other guys, Snake, Tracker, and Shadow hurry to restrain him. Wraith laughs again, watching the three of them try and wrestle Steel back into his seat. Tracker finally pushes him down by one shoulder and Snake by the other.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Brick says, leaning across the table. The guy isn’t more than twenty-seven himself, with an old lady who is twice his age, but he’s tough and smart. He shoots Wraith a withering gaze.
Wraith returns it, undaunted. He might as well have flipped Brick off. For a tall bastard who is only now just starting to fill out regain all the muscle mass that he lost, Wraith has a big mouth. He’s got balls of steel though when it counts, I’ll give him that. Just doesn’t know that there’s a time and a placefor that shit and sometimes shutting your trap is a hell of a lot wiser of an idea.
Snake keeps his hand on Steel’s shoulders while the big bastard glowers around the room. He shoots scathing looks at all of us, even the guys who kept perfectly silent.
Wraith rearranges his hands on the tabletop. “The way I see it,” he says, not shutting his mouth at all, is that Edge didn’t break any rules. I just took my vows when I patched in. I know what they say. Fucking someone’s daughter or old lady ain’t on that list. Edge didn’t lie about club business. He fucking took down half of my men by himself. He’s deadly with a gun. Good asset to have in a club. He’s smart, though I guess I’ll amend that to say, I thought he was smart. Clearly his only fault is that he thinks with his dick.”
I expect a groan to go around the room, but it’s deadly silent. The kind of silence you find in the eye of the storm.
“Did you actually do what you’re being accused of?” Brick, of all people, grinds out, apparently siding with Wraith for the moment instead of telling him to shut up again. “Your face says yes, or was that just Steel settling matters between the two of you?”
I grunt, a noncommittal response.
“There’s two sides to every story,” Shadow says as he takes his chair, nursing the blow to his jaw. “Let’s hear Edge’s before we make a decision. He’s our VP. We aren’t just gonna kick his sorry looking ass out of here like that.”
Even though they’re silent, waiting, my brothers’ support means everything to me. Steel grunts as I shift in mychair. I’m guilty, as far as he’s concerned, but I can’t worry about what that means at the moment.
“It ain’t a lie, I love Harley,” I start, getting right to the point. The restless stirring in the room tells me that maybe that wasn’t the way to go. “I didn’t fucking screw around with her though. It’s been going on since last summer when she came to work at the shop. We tried to resist, but you can’t choose who you fall in love with. We were working on telling Steel, making it official, but I guess it’s too late now. This MC is my life, I never betrayed this club and I’m not a fucking traitor. It’s your choice though. You want me out, I’m gone. That’s the way the club works, and I’ll respect the hell out of your decision.”
Silence fills up the room, thick and abrasive. Snake, who’s been in the club just about as long as Steel and I have, clears his throat from behind Steel. I turn my head that way, and I only need one good eye to see the murderous rage burning up Steel’s face, turning it scarlet.
“The way I see it, is that we vote. We decide right here and right now and then we all get back to our fuckin’ beds and our families on this fine Saturday morning.” There’s mutters of assent around the room, so Snake continues. “All those in favor of keeping Edge on as VP, raise your hands.”
I can honestly say I’m a little surprised when every single brother raises their hands. Steel not included of course. My chest fills up with that squishy feeling that I shouldn’t feel at all, because I’m a man for fuck’s sake, but it fills up all the same, looking around that room at the men I’m proud to call my family.
Steel slams his chair back, furious, and Snake is wise enough to get the hell out of the way. Our Prez shoots mea murderous,this ain’t over,glare before he storms out of the room. We all wait, the room so silent you could truly hear a pin drop if we cared about fucking pins. The sound of slamming doors echoes from deep into the clubhouse and then the roar of a bike splits the peaceful morning outside.
“Well…” Snake shrugs. “That’s fucking that.”
We all stand and begin shuffling out of the room. I wish I could say this was over. That the beating and the meeting was all that there was to it, but I know it’s not.
I might still be a part of The Riders, I might have Harley, but I’ve lost the respect and the friendship of a man who I call brother, and that guts me the way that no weapon ever could.
Chapter Eight
