“Sir,” Tommy says when he’s close to Slate. “This cut belongs to the club and since I don’t, I need to turn it in.”
Slate takes the folded cut from him and sets it on the bar.
“Thank you for not making me hunt you down and take it. You’ve always been a good man. A lot of us regret what happened here today. One of the hardest things to accept as VP is that not every prospect makes the cut. I wish things could have been different. I don’t know my old man’s reasons but try not to take it personally.”
Tommy nods once, struggling to keep control of his emotions. “I appreciate you saying that to me. It means a lot to hear those words coming from you.”
Slate reaches out to give Tommy’s shoulder a squeeze. “You take care of yourself out there, TJ. Just remember that our door is always open, should you need anything. Times and circumstances change. If a path for you opens here, we’ll alert you immediately.”
“Thanks, Slate. I’m glad we’re parting on good terms.”
This is a heartbreaking conversation to watch. When Tommy heads for the door, I’m right beside him. We’re both going to need to process what just happened.
Chapter 5
Flint
Outside, the morning sun is climbing higher in the sky, birds are chirping and there is a gentle breeze blowing through the Sons of Rage compound. But Tommy and I aren’t fuckin’ feeling any of the goodness of the day. This has been a crushing blow for my friend, and I regret talking him into prospecting.
As we walk to our bikes, he mutters, “A whole goddamn year of my life just went down the fuckin’ drain. I moved all the way here for the club, just to be rejected when my vote came up. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”
“I can imagine. This is probably your worst nightmare come true.”
“I can’t help but think I did something wrong. I have been racking my brain, but I can’t come up with one single thing that would justify a nay vote from Rock. I’ve always looked up to and respected that old man.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, bro. I’m sure of it.”
“Then why did he vote nay?”
“Maybe there isn’t an answer to be had. It could be that the old man is going on some weird gut instinct and doesn’t even know why he voted you down.”
“Tommy,” I say quietly. “We’ve got company. Look towards our bikes.”
Mica’s leaning against the concrete wall that surrounds the Sons compound, all by himself. He’s standing so close to our bikes that it makes me think he’s waiting for us. Now, why the fuck would Mica, the new club president for Raging Vultures MC, be waiting to talk to us, today of all days? He jerks his chin when we get closer.
I’ve always been close to my cousin, Mica. He was the treasurer of this club for six years before he handed in his cut and rode out to build his own club. But him showing up at the Sons of Rage compound right after Tommy turned in his cut is setting off my spidey senses.
“Brothers,” Mica calls out to us as we come close.
“Mica,” Tommy answers. “How the hell’s it hanging?”
Mica chuckles. “As you probably heard, I’ve been busting my balls to get Raging Vultures off the ground.”
Joining the conversation, I ask, “Is your old lady treating you right?”
His eyes light up with the kind of happiness I wish I had in my life. “Nova is my world. She’s carrying my baby and also the reason I decided to start my own club. We want to honor her grandfather’s legacy.”
Tommy sighs. “At least you found your calling in life. That ain’t nothin’, my friend.”
Shooting a dark glance at the clubhouse, Mica responds, “I heard about you getting the thumbs down from my old man. That’s a shitty thing for him to do.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Tommy deadpans back. “Look, I’m planning on going on a drunken all-day bender today. Wanna come with?”
Mica’s expression softens. “No, I’ve got a pregnant old lady to get back to. But I do want to talk to you about something important. If you plan to spend the day drinkin’ you should put some food in your belly first.”
I shoot Tommy a knowing look. “That’s some damn good advice there, bro. You don’t want to be dry heaving into your porcelain throne all night.”
Tommy scratches his stomach. “Where do you wanna go?”
