“I’ll kill you with both eyes closed and my dick buried in a sweet butt’s pussy, young pup.” Shaggy drew his weapon and placed it on the table.
“Enough.” Jagger folded his arms across his chest. An inch taller than Cade, and broader, dark where Cade was fair, he’d served with Cade in Afghanistan until a rocket propel left shrapnel near his heart. After being honorably discharged, he’d found a home with the Sinners, and when Cade had returned home, burdened by the crushing guilt of losing his squad in a desert ambush, Jagger sobered him up, straightened him out, and invited him in.
“I hear you, brothers. I feel Cade’s pain. This disrespect screams for justice, but Wolf called me this morning to apologize for Mad Dog, and he made me an offer that we need to seriously consider.” Jagger spoke with his usual implacable calm, and yet his sheer presence and power left no doubt he could enforce his will if anyone dared step out of line.
“We don’t want any fucking apologies. And we don’t want anything the damn Brethren have to offer except Mad Dog’s head on a plate and the bodies of his men lying on the street.” Gunner slammed his coffee cup on the worn, wooden table. With his head shaved military short, and his body thick with muscle, he was perfectly suited for the position of sergeant-at-arms, responsible for keeping order in the club.
“Hear him out.” Dax put a cautioning hand on Gunner’s shoulder. “It’s not a done deal. Whatever Wolf proposed will be subject to a vote.”
“I vote no.” Gunner held out his hand, thumb pointed down. “Done. Let’s get going.”
“Viper approached Wolf about a Brethren patch-over.” Jagger held Gunner in place with the fierceness of his scowl. “Wolf says the club is undecided, and he personally doesn’t think it is a good fit. The Brethren have an election coming up. Wolf made it clear he would be interested in patching over to the Sinners if he wins.”
Cade stood so abruptly his chair toppled over, banging against the worn wooden floor. “You can’t seriously be considering patching in those motherfucking pieces of slime. We kicked them out of Conundrum for a reason.”
“I’m with Cade,” Shaggy said. “We lost good men in the war with the Brethren all those years ago. Good friends of mine. There’ll be bad blood if we let them into the club.”
“There won’t be a club if we don’t expand our numbers.” Irritation laced Jagger’s tone. “The Jacks are actively recruiting supporters, and if we want to maintain our status as the dominant MC in Montana, and put the fucking Jacks in their place, we need to expand our membership. A solid midsized club like the Brethren could tip the balance either way.”
“The Jacks and Brethren together would be hard to beat,” T-Rex said. “The Brethren have their own network of support clubs. Not big ones, but enough that we would be spread thin if we had to defend against them and the Jacks.”
Jagger rubbed his brow, a sure sign he was conflicted about his proposal. “We need the bodies, but we don’t need them all. We can pick and choose. Right now these discussions are just between Wolf and me, and the executive boards. The way I see it, as long as Wolf is tied up in negotiations with me, he won’t be negotiating with Viper. And since the election is still a few weeks away, we have a chance to investigate his MC and make a decision about whether any of his brothers are worthy of the Sinner name. None of the men who beat on Cade will wear our patch, guaranteed. And Mad Dog—”
“Dead,” Shaggy said.
“Not yet.” Jagger rubbed his brow again. “Wolf had a condition. He knows the value of his club, and he knows the advantage the Brethren numbers will give us over the Jacks. Mad Dog is his nephew. He wants our word he won’t be touched.”
“Mad Dog is JC’s boy?” Zane let out a strangled groan. “He’ll have a vendetta against us for killing his dad.”
“Mad Dog doesn’t wear our patch.” Jagger firmed his voice. “Ever. Wolf knows that. But he wants us to spare his life. In exchange for our mercy, he’s offered us a shipment of AK-47s, just in from Korea, that he has stored in a warehouse up in Whitefish.”
There were a few angry murmurs around the table but Jagger’s gaze fixed on Cade. “This is your call, brother. Your justice. Your vengeance. If you don’t agree, we turn Wolf down and we go after Mad Dog and his men as soon as this meeting ends.”
Cade took a deep, calming breath as he stared at the picture above Zane’s head, a half-naked woman leaning over a Harley Fat Boy, not unlike almost every other picture nailed to the walls. The meeting room had once been a dining room, but the fancy fixtures and fittings had been removed, and after it was painted, it was decorated in true biker form.
And a true biker lived by the code “Club First.”