Finally, Blackjack stood up, his gray hair flopping on his shoulders. “Fine. All right, everybody, we're gonna take a vote on No Confidence for the sitting Prez of the Sacramento charter and acting Prez of Redding. If Fang's deemed to have lost our faith, then we'll have to elect a new man to head the club. Not just our charter, but for the entire Grizzlies MC in the whole twelve state area.”
Fang rolled his eyes. “Fucking get on with it. Here, Sarge.”
The Prez sneered as he passed the bear claw to Blackjack. As Enforcer, it was his job to carry out a vote like this.
My brain was on fucking fire. I couldn't decide if this was a blessing or one helluva curse. If Fang was removed – and that was one big fat if – the club would be in so much chaos it'd be a cakewalk moving Missy and her sis north. Shit, even I could slip away in the craziness if I wanted to, assuming the cartel didn't crash the power struggle and burn us all alive.
Blackjack gripped the bear claw. He looked us up and down, letting his eyes linger on Rabid and I.
“Let's do it, brothers. Starting at the head of the table. Every man here gets a vote except the Prez, an aye or a nay. I'll keep count. Crack?”
The VP was the first man up. Thirty pairs of eyes turned toward him. Fuck, the first few votes were bound to set the precedent.
The only way Fang was gonna be removed was if anybody had the balls to effectively spit in his face. And I wasn't sure anybody here had the balls. Dammit. If only the charter allowed these kinda fucking votes to go by secret ballot instead.
My heart stopped. I forgot to breathe. For a second, I thought he was really gonna do it, thought Crack was gonna vote aye for his own selfish ass reasons.
“Nay,” the VP choked out.
Adrenaline flooded my head. Rabid let out a little hissing sound, and several brothers next to us looked down, shuffling their boots underneath the long table.
Blackjack moved down the line, cold and efficient, no emotion showing on his face. Nay, nay, nay.
Three more votes to keep Fang. Then six. Then five.
“Nay.” Rabid's hoarse, quick vote echoed loud in my ears, like the sound of my own blood running out after getting stabbed.
Fuck. It was my turn, and Blackjack was looking right at me. I didn't have to count everybody else on my right to know they'd all have to vote aye to even make this fucking thing a tie.
I clenched my teeth and waited too many seconds before I let it out. “Aye.”
Several brothers cleared their throats loudly. I caught Fang's eyes before he caught mine, holding as firm as I could without shaking, looking right into his devilish eyes.
He'd saved me from being burned alive with the other rebel Grizzlies one fucked up night in Montana. But, fuck, he wasn't good for the club. There were no excuses. We were losing the cartel war, and he was letting desperation eat us alive, turn us into demons no better than the Mexicans.
I had to be honest. The Grizzlies patch on my back felt like lead, and the one on my chest itched something terrible. There was no understanding in the Prez's eyes – not even when the asshole next to me voted nay, followed by Serial and Splitter too.
I tried to do right by the club – the same thing everybody wearing the bear on their cuts was supposed to be about.
Idealistic? Stupid? Probably.
Right? Fuck yes.
It was over long before it swung back around the U-shaped gathering, toward Blackjack. I was the only aye. I seriously wondered if I'd make it outta the room alive when the claw returned to Fang.
I didn't give a fuck what happened to me. All I could think about was getting killed before I had a chance to get Missy and Jackie out.
Fuck! If there was a God, I really needed a miracle right now, more than I ever needed one in my life. Of course, I was the last asshole in the world who deserved good karma after getting Ma killed and drugging myself blind, but a man could hope.
“Aye.”
Fang broke the death stare with me and his jaw fell open. Blackjack stood like stone, his face hard, as if to say, yeah, asshole. I did it.
The whole room heard the relief hissing out my nostrils. Now that I wasn't the lone asshole voting aye, I might have a chance to smooth things over, before some brother slit my throat in my sleep.
“The nays have it,” Blackjack said, taking his seat. He held the bear claw several seconds longer than he needed to before passing it to Fang.
When he held it out to the Prez, Fang ripped it outta his hand, slamming it down on the table again.
“Okay. It's done. Everybody in this room knows exactly where the fuck everybody else stands.” His tone sounded calm, but the tremor in his shoulders said otherwise. “Blackjack, tell them about Tacoma.”
“We had another shipment hit by the cartel last night,” he said, his voice as icy as Fang's. “Some heavy weapons we picked up from a Chinese drop off. It never made it out of port. The Washington crew found three of their guys dead plus a couple prospects, and all the boxes gone the next day.”