Tempting smells that had Mav’s stomach growling came through the mess hall door—proof that Bunny, Haven, and Cora were putting together a fantastic, celebratory Sunday dinner—but Maverick led Mike in the other direction, toward the big rec room where about thirty Ravens were waiting.
A round of applause and cheers erupted as Maverick and Mike walked into the big rectangular room and made their way toward Dare, standing in front of the bar.
“Dare,” Maverick said when the ruckus died down, “I’m proud to sponsor Mike Renner for prospective membership into the Raven Riders Motorcycle Club.” After the insanity of Friday night’s raid on the Iron Cross, it felt really fucking good to have something positive for the club to focus on.
Dare reached behind him and grabbed a denim cutoff jacket with black leather patches sewn on here and there. “Mike, are you interested in becoming a member of the Raven Riders?”
“Yes, I am.” Wearing a black button-down shirt and jeans, he stood solemnly with his hands clasped in front of him.
“Are you committed to learning about the club, supporting its activities, being a brother in actions, not just name, protecting the club and its business, and putting your loyalty to the Ravens above all else?” Dare asked, nailing the younger man with his dark stare. The words sucked Maverick back into his own induction ceremony at the age of eighteen. He could still remember the pride he’d felt at standing next to Dare as Doc asked them these same questions and they became brand-new prospects together.
Mike nodded, his expression serious. “I am.” An approving murmur rolled through the group.
“The Raven Riders is more than just a club. It’s a brotherhood of men who share similar interests, interests that include standing up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. It’s a family of choice, made up of the brothers and their kin—a family that protects and takes care of its own. We ride, we fight, and we defend as one. If you want to be a part of the Raven Riders, declare your intentions and accept your prospective status by putting on this cut.” Dare held up the jacket for all to see. Unlike the cuts of the fully patched members, a prospect’s cut lacked the Raven Riders’ patches and name and location rockers, or badges, on the back. Instead, both the back and the chest simply read, Prospect. The full patches had to be earned. “Wearing it proclaims your loyalty and membership until such time as we deem you fit for fully patched status.”
Mike stepped forward, and Dare slid the cut onto his bulky frame. Maverick grinned as welcoming cheers broke out all around.
The prospect came to Maverick first. “Thanks, Maverick. Really proud to be here.”
“We’re glad to have you,” Mav said, glad to have something to celebrate, something that let them all focus on the future. One by one, everyone shook Mike’s hand and personally welcomed him, and grabbed one of the beers Blake had served up on the bar.
“Words of wisdom for our new brother?” Dare called out.
“The more you contribute, the easier it’ll be to become a full member,” Bear said. Words of agreement rang out.
“Don’t be a fuckup,” Phoenix said with a grin. He raised his beer in a salute and gave the man a wink. Guys raised their beers all around to that one, and Mike took it in good humor, laughing and nodding.
A man of few words, Caine shifted on his boots. His ice-blue eyes zeroed in on Mike. “Never discuss club business with anyone. Keeping your mouth shut is always the wise choice if you’re not sure.”
Doc rose out of his chair, no doubt the hip and knee he’d had replaced a few years before bothering him as they often did late in the day. He ran his hand over the white hair of his beard as he looked at Mike. “As Dare said, this is a family. So start by getting to know everyone. Learn their names, and the names of their wives and kids. Figure out who can use a helping hand, and offer it. If a brother breaks down at two in the morning, go help, no questions asked.”
“Amen,” someone said. Others echoed the sentiment.
“Always have your brothers’ backs,” Jagger said. “No matter what.”
Maverick nodded, agreeing down deep. The loyalty and brotherhood he’d found in this club were just two of the reasons he’d built his life around it. He hadn’t had a good relationship with his father, which just proved that you could create a family just as well as be born into one. No doubt many of the guys felt the same way because there were a lot of loners, outcasts, and men estranged from their families for all kinds of reasons standing in this room.
Mav turned to Mike. “Whenever you’re wearing that cut, you’re not just representing yourself. You’re representing the club. And me. And every man in this room. Never forget that.”
Mike nodded, taking it all in.
Dare raised his beer. “To brotherhood, club, and family.”
“Brotherhood. Club. Family,” everyone called out, following the toast. Maverick took a long pull off his beer and clapped Mike on the back. “Welcome to the Ravens.”
The man smiled and nodded, and soon got pulled into a conversation with a couple other brothers. Music turned on. Laughter rang out. On the other side of the room, someone racked up the balls on one of the pool tables.
“The club needs this,” Dare said, coming to stand beside Maverick. Was his face pale, or was Mav just imagining it? The guy hadn’t seemed himself since Friday night’s fight. “New blood. Especially with everything that’s gone on.”
“Yeah,” Maverick said, eyeballing his cousin. “Fresh enthusiasm never hurts. Especially after the other night.”
“Amen to that,” Dare said. “At least it appears we put the Baltimore issue to bed once and for all. Nick emailed news from Chen this morning. They’ve confirmed that most of the Iron Cross are either in custody, dead, or scattered.”
Mav sighed as a weight lifted off his shoulders. Having that threat gone? Knowing those who’d hurt his mother wouldn’t be able to do it again? Yeah, he couldn’t help but feel good about that. “Glad that’s behind us.”
Jagger joined them, his fingers tapping out a beat against the back of an iPad he held.
Maverick clasped hands with the guy. “What’s up, Jag?”
He raked longish brown hair back from his face. “The carnival’s what’s up. And I’m nailing down volunteers for shit while everyone’s here.”
“Damn, Jagger. You work fast,” Maverick said. The guy always went above and beyond for the club, which was why their operations at the racetrack were such a success, recent catastrophe notwithstanding. “What do you need?”
“Eh, it’s not all me. I’ve had help,” he said, tapping on the tablet. “Okay, I have tickets, parking, and meeting the race car drivers almost covered. But I need setup and tear-down and dunking booth victims.” Jagger smirked.