I get out of my chair. “Don’t waste your breath, he’s made up his mind. Pres trumps all, right?” I walk past Taz keeping my eyes trained on his the whole time and he narrows them at me. “Better get your shit together, Taz. You know I’ll be contesting. One step out of line and I’ll know about it.”
I plan on being up his backside, metaphorically, until he finally fucks up, which he inevitably will. Him and Pres stopped caring about the actual club two years back, they’ve run it down into the ground ever since.
They brought in more broads than we could handle, the broads use more of our drugs than we distribute, and since then, it’s turned into one big fuckin’ party. Now I like a good drink and I’m not immune to the women, I am a man after all, but the drugs are a step too far for me, I’m sick of not getting my cut of the money all because some broad and some of the brother’s are using it to get their highs.
All this partying is taking away the fact that we’re all brothers in an MC, we should start acting like it instead of letting in any old riff-raff and letting addictions get in the way of business.
I’m lying on my bed when the door comes flying open and I know exactly who it is before I even look.
“Ever heard of knocking?” I say.
My pop stands there with a face like thunder. “What the fuck was that shit you just pulled?”
Tank, Pres, is his best friend, has been since they joined as prospects together thirty years ago. I stand up in front of him, rooting myself in place. I can’t believe I used to be scared of him.
Deciding to play dumb, I just look at him and shrug. “You wanna be in office? You fuckin’ talk to me about it first.”
All humor drains out my face and is replaced with anger, I step right up in his personal space. “Are you really that fucking blinded by your friendship that you can’t see you’re all running this charter into the ground? Denlo will cut us, most of our brothers have nowhere to go other than here. You want that on your conscience? Be my fuckin’ guest, but I’m contesting this shit whether it pleases you or Pres. I will be VP or even Pres if he doesn’t step his shit up,” I whisper-shout.
He grinds his teeth and I can see him thinking about his next move. “You have no idea what you’ve done, you’ve turned the brothers against Taz and now he knows they want him out of position, he ain’t gonna make things easy for you or them. I have no loyalties to Taz other than him being a brother of the club, but me and Tank have been friends a long time. I’m not blind, Bear. I can see he’s lost his way, hell, I can see it in myself too. But you’ve gotta be smarter about this,” he says, closing the door.
I take a step back. “I was smart, I’ve kept my head down and didn’t let anyone know I was gunnin’ for the position.”
“Exactly! You should’ve let me know. You weren’t smart, you played right into his fuckin’ hands. You think if anyone would’ve voted Slider or Muck in place of me he would’ve allowed it? Fuck no! He needs to feel like he’s surrounded by people he trusts, and that sure as hell ain’t you right now.”
“Why the fuck you telling me all this? I thought you were coming in here to tear me a new one,” I huff out and cross my arms.
“‘Cause I didn’t bring you up stupid. Tank may be a good friend, but I can see what’s happening. Hunter, you sleep, eat and breathe this club, us old fucks have just gotten lost. You’ll make the best motherfucking Pres this club has seen in a long time when it’s your time but for now, you need to use your head.”
I think about what he’s saying, I’m fucking convinced I’m not speaking to my pop. The pop I thought I knew would’ve come in here and knocked me around a little, in fact, I’m still expecting him to shout bullshit and start beating on me. “I think you’re getting a little soft in your age, old man.”
The air rushes out of me as his fist jolts into my stomach. “I may be gettin’ on but I can still throw a punch, don’t you fuckin’ forget it.”
He walks out and I stand up rubbing the spot where he’d hit. I look up as cheap perfume from earlier walks in and leans against my door frame.
“Get the fuck out, Kristal,” I sigh, not having the energy to fight.
She starts sliding down the straps of her top leaving nothing to the imagination as she’s not wearing a bra.
“It’s Krista,” she practically purrs at me.
“Close enough,” I grumble. “But sentiment still applies. Out.”
I push her out of the room, grabbing her top off my floor in the process, and throw it at her. I turn around and push the door closed after me with the heel of my boot.
Twenty seconds later a knock at the door has me swinging it back open. “I told you to-” Seeing prospect Whitey standing in front of me and not Krista, I rub my hand over my growing beard. “What the fuck do you want, Whitey?”
“Smokey said to come tell you there’s a bottle of jack with your name on it.”
Well I don’t mind if I do, anything to drown this shit out.