I watch my Prez walk out of the clubhouse, and he rubs his hands, turning up his lips as he walks up to us. He stops next to Grizzly, resting his hands on his hips.
“Is it ready,” Prez asks, looking at the red hot stick.
“Hell yes, red hot as hell,” Grizzly huffs, moving his head up and down.
Prez whistles and claps his hands, looking around the pavilion.
“Brothers, get your ass over here! The patching in begins,” Prez yells.
“Fuck yes! Oh hell,” the Brothers yell, circling around us.
“Let’s do this!”
“Here, Prez,” Grizzly hums, handing the stick over.
My Prez takes the red hot branding stick and looks at me, raising his brow.
Thank fuck that I’m buzzing, so the branding should be easy. It only takes a few seconds, but it’s going to be too fucking long.
Fuck!
I take another long pull of whisky and wipe my mouth with my arm, moving my head up and down.
“Motherfuckers, are you ready? Are you high and relaxed? The branding is brutal, and you’re not allowed to faint because you would need to do it again. For fucks sake, do not move!
You could experience difficulty breathing, but you can handle this. You’re a fucking Satan Warrior! Give me your forearm,” Prez yells, moving his fingers.
“Motherfuckers extend your arms,” Grizzly hisses, resting his hands on his hips.
Yeah, they’re our dads, but they won’t give us any special privileges. We’re Satan Warrior, not their sons.
Yeah, they’re crazy, and we’re just as crazy since we’re doing this.
“Demon and Diablo are patching into the Satan’s Warriors MC. They’re now known by their road names, Demon and Diablo!”
Prez presses the red hot branding stick on my forearm for a few seconds, and I grind my molars, inhaling deeply. It fucking does feel like forever, and the stench of burning flesh is always going to be seared in my mind.
Prez takes it off and presses on Diablo's forearm, and I take another pull of Whiskey. I stare at the Satan’s Warriors MC colors, the skull and wings, with the upper and lower rockers. It’s small, about two inches in diameter, approximately the size of the top of the soda can. It’s fucking badass, but at the moment, it’s fucking painful.
Fuck me!
“Brothers! Demon and Diablo are now officially patched into the Satan’s Warriors MC! Brothers, you do the Satan’s Warriors proud! Here’s your leather Cuts.”
The Satan’s Warriors Brothers hoot, clap, and stomp their feet on the ground and yell out.
“Satan’s Warriors power, riding till we die!”
“Thanks,” I hum, moving my head up and down.
“Hell yes,” Diablo yells, pumping his fist.
“Let’s party,” Grizzly yells.
I look up, and Halo is smiling but tears are rolling down her face. She turns and walks back into the clubhouse. I know that she’s pissed off and hurting.
She takes my heart and soul with her.
One
