“I appreciate the welcome back party,” Dad continued. “Even though you know damn well that I hate all the attention.”
Viper and Psycho wolf whistled. Dad waved them off with good-natured annoyance.
“As much as I was looking forward to reclaiming my place as President,” he went on. “I think this welcome back party would be better suited as a retirement party.”
The room went deadly silent. My eyebrows shot up. I nudged Pretty Boy’s shoulder.
“Did you know anything about this?” I whispered.
He shook his head, looking just as bewildered as I was.
“I hate to admit it,” Dad said. “But I’m getting old. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, but I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s time for me to step down. And I nominate Pretty Boy to be your official new President.”
All eyes turned on Pretty Boy, stunned. The tips of his ears turned pink.
“Any objections to that?” Dad said. “Say your piece now or shut up and deal with it.”
The silence continued. No one protested. Dad nodded and slid his cut off his shoulders, ripping the President patch off.
Pretty Boy accepted the patch, and I could have sworn I saw a slight tremor in his fingers.
“Congratulations,” Dad said. “You took care of my club. You protected my daughter. And you carried yourself like a leader should.”
Pretty Boy’s face went stark white, but he still managed to square his shoulders.
“Thank you, sir,” he said.
“Don’t thank me. You earned it. Besides, I’ll be looking over your shoulder, making sure you don’t fuck up. No pressure,” Dad added with a twinkle in his eye. He held up his glass. “A toast to your new President!”
A chorus of applause and cheers rose in the air, filling the clubhouse to the rafters.
Chapter nine
Pretty Boy
The festivities ran late into the night. Sometime around three o’clock in the morning, I was getting ready to call it quits and head home when Hillbilly appeared at my side. He hooked an arm around my shoulder.
“Hey, boss,” I said. “How are you enjoying the party?”
He shook his head and thumped my chest amiably.
“You don’t have to call me that anymore, remember? You’re the big boss man now.”
“As long as you’re the club’s founder, that makes you the boss for life.”
He chuckled and poured me a shot of whiskey.
“Fair point. Look, I had a feeling there was something going on that y’all weren’t telling me about.”
I blinked at him, saying nothing.
“Don’t worry, I won’t grill you,” Hillbilly added. “I already pestered Ironside until he caved. He explained the whole ordeal with Sweeney and how you handled the situation.”
“Damn it,” I muttered, tossing the shot of whiskey back. “I should have known someone would break eventually. But I never suspected it would be good ol’ Ironside.”
“Ah, but you didn’t account for the fact that he’s an old dog like me. So, naturally, we would stick together. Anyway, I just wanted to personally apologize. My bullshit wasn’t supposed to end up in your lap.”
“Technically, it landed in Lila’s lap first."
