Champ
After a night of broken sleep, I ride to the clubhouse, the cold wind biting against my face. Ugh, I fucking hate this time of year, it’s too fucking cold to do anything.
Reaching the clubhouse, I notice all the bikes lined in a neat row and I park mine at the end before pulling the helmet from my head.
Inside, everything is quiet, I frown and check the clock on the wall and notice the time. “Fuck!”
I rush through the main room, down the narrow hallway and to the double oak doors to church.
“Ah, he’s alive,” Prez says, eyeing me from his seat at the head of the table. “We’ve tried calling you.”
“I’m five minutes late, you all know what the traffic is like at this time in the morning.” I grumble, taking a seat opposite Cobra.
“Whatever. Anyway, straight to business this morning, boys.” Prez starts, taking a drag from his ever present cigarette. “Let’s start with the LA Rebels. They’re only a small club. They run drugs and prostitution in a select part of LA, and have never stepped over to our turf. I’m sure they know the consequences. But they called late last night asking for help. It seems they’ve been getting threats from Giovanni Toretto. Now, we all know who that SOB is, Mafia drug lord. I’m not sure on all the details yet but they’re desperate for us to help them. And seeing as I’ve never had issues with them, I’m willing to help them. Thoughts?”
“If they’ve never caused us problems, then why the hell not. We can call in a favor from them when we need them. Plus, we all want to see Giovanni six feet under.” Cobra grinds out through gritted teeth.
A few years back, Cobra had a run in with the Mafia drug lord, not because we were selling shit in their area but because Cobra fucked his daughter. Giovanni sure didn’t like that. When he found out from a source, he came after Cobra with a baseball bat. Luckily for Cobra, he was surrounded by Crusader men who backed him up. Giovanni left, leaving a clear threat in his wake. Fucked up bastard wouldn’t hesitate to pull a trigger or break a few bones. We all know he was saving his precious daughter to sell to the highest bidder. The sick prick deserves any shit that heads his way. And what better payback for his stunt then to help the very people he’s decided to leash hell upon this time.
“I’m in,” I smirk, rubbing my hands together. Adrenaline is already spiking through my veins, heating my blood with anticipation. I’m not as violent as I used to be, but that cunt has it coming to him.
Sounds of approval sound around the room, respect for these men because they pretty much agree to fucking anything. Most of them were brought in because of shady backgrounds, charity cases. We all were. Except Chip. He’s not into all the action shit that comes with being in the club, but he’s the Prez’s son, not that many in the club know, it’s a secret to protect Chip’s life and only a select few know. Thankfully for Chip, he has his mother’s looks.
Silence encompasses the room before I add, “This shit needs to be sorted before Christmas next week. I’m not ruining my first Christmas with the Old Lady.”
“We’ll have it sorted before Christmas, son, don’t worry.” With that, Prez bangs the gavel down and we all file out of the room, chattering amongst ourselves on the way to the bar.
Beers are handed out from the blonde club whore behind the bar, and I venture to the yard for a quick smoke. My thoughts run to last night, how upset Lauren was, her going to bed mad at me.
When we first moved into the house, we promised never to go to bed angry at one another, but last night she did just that. But, I don’t think she was angry, more upset than anything. It cut straight to my heart and I sat there in front of the fireplace, a whiskey in hand and lost myself to thoughts of how to make it up to Lauren.
“Hey, man,” Cobra says from behind me. I life my head at him over my shoulder and take a long, languid drag of my cigarette.
“Everything okay in that head of yours?” Cobra asks me, coming to stand beside me.
“Yeah. No. I don’t fucking know. Lauren was real upset with me last night, man. I don’t know how I’m going to make it up to her. Especially now that we have this shit to deal with,” I admit.
“What have you done now, brother?” Cobra chuckles. He knows I’m no good with shit like this, never have been.
“Apparently, I don’t talk to her enough. I can see now that I don’t. All I tell her is ‘club business’ and she’s sick to death of hearing it.” I flick my cigarette over the high wall and blow out the remaining smoke in my mouth.
“Talk to her more then, dipshit.” Cobra nails it in one. I know I need to. Fuck, I have to.
Without acknowledging him, I storm back inside the clubhouse and straight over to Prez. “I have to head out, give me a call when you need me.”