“Fighting again?” he confirms quietly, and I clear my throat.
“We have a fighting ring in the basement, it’s all good, I’m still on course to be released in five months if I stay on good behavior,” I reply quietly, and he nods, but his gray eyes still show concern.
Dad looks around the room, eyeing the officers before he looks my way and questions, “Was it done?”
I nod in confirmation, and he nods back.
Best thing about me being inside, doing the club's grunt work, is still being able to keep them safe.
The Chargers had their enforcer inside, on my wing, and with the help of Scar, a guy I met in my last stint, I managed to kill the fucker. I stuck my knife made out of my tooth brush into his neckbefore shoving him into the dryer and switching it on so he was completely mangled.
Detectives and staff still can’t figure out who killed the big bastard.
“How’s Mom?” I ask quietly, and Dad sighs while Trick answers, “She misses her son and don’t get me started on Whitney.”
I wince and ask, “Has she gotten in any more trouble?”
He nods once and mentions, “Got into a cat fight with several bunnies,” and I wince again.
Fuck.
Dad huffs, “Since your second stint, she’s struggled. Last week, it was five against one, but she didn’t care. The women were all sitting around, laughing and joking. I think it was Honey who mentioned that she couldn’t wait to screw you after your release, and she snapped and punched Honey. That caused three bunnies to drag your sister off the woman, and fucking Chanel punched her in the face as retaliation.”
My blood boils as anger overrides me that the bitches thought they could lay hands on my sister. I can’t stop from fisting my hand underneath my chin tighter.
I’ve already lost one sister because of a patch chaser.
“Clark had to intervene,” Trick continues with a growl, “We were in the yard when we heard the commotion, but when I got there, Lavender had slapped Clark.”
“She gone?” I confirm with force, but Trick sighs and shakes his head, and I grit my teeth to stop myself from lashing out.
“She’s apparently good at head and is freaky in the sheets so the officer brothers, despite the protests from Crash, at the moment refused to kick her out. Despite her hitting a club princess, they put her on probation. Clark…well she gave Lavender a broken nose and threatened any bunny that mentioned your name around Whit again that she’ll knock themout and she means it. You know she loves Whit,” Dad says, and my jaw ticks.
Clark is Crash’s little sister and the sweetest girl around. So, to hear that the brothers voted to keep the club bunny is mind-boggling and fucking pathetic.
And they wonder why I want fuck all to do with the club.
Between not feeling worthy and not keeping my sister safe, they keep the patch chasers around that cause shit. That’s a hard fucking no in my books, and if I were in charge, the bitch would have been gone, no second chances, her and Chanel.
“We need you home, son,” Dad whispers as chatter echoes around us, “Your sister is struggling with her temper, your mom is a shell of herself, worse than the last time you got locked up, and the brothers need you to lead them.”
“I’m not club anymore, Dad,” I remind him without looking up, and Trick snaps, “Yes, you fucking are, and you know it!”
I lock eyes with him, and tiredness radiates from him.
He’s learning to take over from his father, Lick, and is currently in college, working hard to get into medical school. The man is constantly on the go.
“You are our future Pres, whether you like it or not!” he growls quietly, “We grew up together, we got into shit together, meaning we fucking ride together. I won’t become VP without you by my fucking side, so get this shit outta your system and get ready!”
Dad looks away, trying to hide his smile, and I huff as I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest.
Trust Trick to give it to me straight.
He eyes my neck before we lock eyes, and I narrow mine in warning, but of course, the fucker doesn’t retreat. Instead, he repeats for the hundredth time in two years, “It wasn’t your fault,” and Dad looks at me with sad eyes, and I clench my jaw yet again.
“If I didn’t bring that bitch around –”
Dad cuts me off as he leans forward and sneers, “Patch chasers are crazy mother fuckers who don’t care who they hurt, son!” and I flinch, but he powers through, “All they care about is the easy life and unlimited money. That bitch terminated her pregnancy even knowing the kid was yours, your sister overheard her conversation, and the bitch panicked. It wasn’t your fucking fault, if anything, it was mine for not ensuring Angie was at the clubhouse.”
