Page 2 of Glacier

I’d be one of the youngest presidents, but I was more than capable. I had the backing of some of the best men I knew—two I called brothers, though we weren’t related by blood, and others I claimed as brothers but could never publicly acknowledge.

I took a moment to look around at the brothers waiting to see what I would do. I’d show them how this chapter was going to be run from now on.

“Take him to the barn,” I ordered Lawless and Lurcher. “String him up. I’ll be there to remove his patch.”

Murmurs and grumbles came from the men surrounding us, but nobody made a move to stop them from taking Casper to the barn as I’d ordered.

“This is your last chance,” I said, staring at the men around me. Thirty men—some good, but most bad. I didn’t want them in my club, and tonight, I was going to start weeding them out. “I’ll give you one chance to leave with no repercussions. You leave, you remove your patch from your back. I don’t care how you do it—ink it, burn it, but you remove it. If you’re found still wearing the Kings’ patch, you will be killed. Do I make myself clear?”

Harris stepped forward when I got no answer. “Your president asked you a question. You fucking answer it.”

My anger came through loud and clear as I said, “This is the last time I ask. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Pres,” a few of the men answered.

I made a note of who they were. They were the men I wanted to keep.

I shared a glance with Harris and Shoes. We knew this would happen, but Big Daddy had given us six months to clean the club so the law would stop looking at us, and we could start to earn again.

“No drugs as of today. Mandatory. And I’m not talking about weed. I’m talking coke, molly, and heroin. If any of you are doing that shit, you stop and you get clean. I won’t have that shit on the property. If you don’t like the new rules, you leave. This is your last chance to leave without repercussions. You want to leave, you do it tonight. No questions asked. You won’t be welcome at any other chapters as per Big Daddy’s orders.”

A few more mutters. Five men turned and left. Suited me. Not nearly enough, but I’d take it.

“Nobody fucks with the Kings not even brothers. You have a month to get your patch removed,” I called out to them as they walked away. “River, Skipper, Wings, follow them and make sure they take all their shit from the bunkhouse.”

I waited for them to follow before turning my attention back to the remaining men.

“If the rest of you are staying, you obey the rules or you’re dead. Your choice. I don’t take shit. I’m not my father, and I’ll run this club in a way you haven’t seen yet. You want to earn, gain the respect we’ve lost, you do it my way. Am I clear?”

This time, I got a resounding, “Yes, Pres.”

I was satisfied for now. They wouldn’t all stay. I would weed out the weak brothers. It would take time, but I’d do it any way I had to.

“To the barn,” I ordered, stalking from the porch of my childhood home towards the barn and my father, where Lurcher and Lawless had him strung up to the rafters like I’d asked.

I nodded as I took the blowtorch from Lawless while he ripped my father’s shirt off his back. Staring at the patch inked on his back, I wondered when he’d stopped believing in it. I hadn’t, and I never would. It was a vow I held strong as I set the flame to his back.

He came awake with a scream. I ignored it. I ignored the smell. I did what I had to do to become the President of the North Dakota Chapter of the Kings of Anarchy.

Only when I was done did I allow him to be taken down for treatment. I stared at the men surrounding me. Some met my eyes with respect; others didn’t.

“Let this be a warning to you. Nobody fucks with this club. We’re fucking Kings. You start acting like it, or you’re done here. You’ve just seen the proof that I’m not fucking around.”

“Yes, Pres.”

“What are we?” I stomped my boots on the barn floor.

Lawless, Lurcher, Harris, and Shoe stomped with me and shouted. “Kings!”

“What are we?” I demanded, louder.

This time, all the men joined in. “Kings!”

“And?” I stared at the men as I stomped my boots.

“Nobody fucks with the Kings!”

“That’s fucking right,” I shouted. “Nobody fucks with the Kings.”