“Time will tell.” Anthony said, patting me on the back. I was thankful that he answered for me because I couldn’t pry my lips apart to speak a single word.
The president gave me one final look before turning around to walk towards the counter. The back of his vest had what looked like the grim reaper surrounded by flames and embroidered letters that read Satan’s Knights. I glanced around at the rest of the bikers noticing that they all had the same cut on. I wanted to laugh at the whole scenario, but really there was nothing funny about learning how to fire a gun at a shooting range owned by bikers that called themselves Satan’s Knights. I should’ve brought a flask with me.
He reached behind the counter, grabbing a clipboard that contained some papers. He shoved the clipboard into my hands and pulled a pen from his back pocket. I took the pen and looked towards Anthony.
“Just fill it out.” He said with a nod. He reached into his back pocket, producing a thick envelope. I watched him hand it to the president. “Victor sends his regards, Jack.”
Jack took the envelope weighing it in the palm of his hands before stuffing the envelope into his pocket. He smiled at Anthony. “Always a pleasure doing business with Vic. How’s business?”
Anthony shrugged his shoulders. “As good as to be expected with the new club opening. Victor wanted me to mention opening night to you.”
“Victor knows me and my men aren’t really into the night club scene.” Jack said rather amused as he lit a cigarette.
“He was hoping that if need be you would be able to assist in providing protection. He’s not expecting any issues, but wants to ensure if something should arise that you have his back.”
I lifted my gaze from the clipboard to gauge Jack’s reaction. He blew out a heavy cloud of smoke crossing one leg over his other knee. He leaned back in his chair seemingly contemplating his answer, and then looked at Anthony.
“My men will be on call.” Jack said, turning to look at me. “You about done kid?”
I glanced down at the blank papers. Shit. I shook my head and started to fill out the paperwork. I was signing a consent form confirming that I didn’t have a criminal record and that I was not a felon. I found it pretty comical that I had to attest to the fact I had not committed a violent crime or I wouldn’t be allowed to fire any of the weapons when this place was crawling with criminals. Anthony didn’t have to fill out a consent form this place was corrupt!
Once I had completed the paperwork Jack, who most of the men called Bulldog walked us to a room where they kept all the weapons. Actually, Anthony was the only one who called him Jack. I later found out that they all had nicknames for one another only they weren’t really considered nicknames but instead were called road names. Jack “Bulldog” Parrish the president of Satan’s Knights had a pretty intensive collection of firearms helping me choose one that was best fitted for me.
I selected a twenty-two millimeter. The semi-automatic was light yet powerful which was perfect for someone like me who was just carrying it for protection. I had to wear goggles along with a pair of protective earphones that protected me from the sound of the guns going off.
Jack watched from the sidelines as Anthony showed me how to hold my stance instructing me to keep my legs shoulder width apart. He explained that when I fired the gun I’d feel the power of the gun and if I didn’t keep myself correctly positioned the force of the gun would push me back.