Page 82 of Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC 7)

It was the motto of the 2/7 Marines.

“Isn’t that the truth. Damn, it’s good to see you,” I said with a nod.

He grinned and nodded his head. “Good to be seen. And fuck it’s good to know you’re alive.”

Axton crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back slightly. “I’m guessing you two fuckers don’t need an introduction?”

“Not at all,” Toad said with a laugh.

“So what the fuck are you doing here?” he asked.

“Trying to start a new chapter for our club. Just trying to make sure we don’t step on any toes,” I said.

“One percent club?” he asked.

“We’re not a 1%er, club, no. We don’t claim territory, and we don’t have any hustle. We just ride and have a deep brotherhood. It’s a nationwide group of firefighters, military, and friends of. We can talk about it at the bar,” I said.

Finding out he was alive and well was a huge relief, and quite a boost to my military ego. The emotion I was filled with was unexplainable, and would be the equivalent of someone learning their brother was alive after mourning his death for more than a decade. I stood there admiring him feeling better than I had felt since the war ended, and most definitely more accomplished than I had felt throughout all of my experience in combat.

I shook my head, still incapable of believing it was him. “Damn it’s good to see you. Let me introduce you to the soon-to-be Vice-President and Sergeant-at-Arms. Two of the best motherfuckers to ever grace this earth.”

“Big bastard here is Mike Ripton, but just call him Ripp,” I said as I extended my arm toward Ripp.

“Ripp, this is Toad, a Marine brother of mine. Toad, this is the one and only Ripp,” I said.

“Nice to meet you,” Toad said as his eyes fell to Ripp’s Chucks.

Most bikers rode their bikes in boots and jeans, but Ripp wasn’t most bikers. Dressed in his typical cargo shorts, wife beater, and Chuck’s he looked like he was going to the beach, not on a motorcycle ride.

Toad coughed a laugh. “Do you ride in those fucking tennis shoes?”

“Pleasure to meet ya,” Ripp said as he reached down and grabbed his foot. As he lifted his foot to his chest, he continued. “But these ain’t tennis shoes, Brother. They’re fuckin’ Chuck’s.”

Toad’s eyes widened as Ripp released his foot.

“And fuck, yes, I ride in ‘em. Hell, I even keep ‘em on when I fuck,” Ripp said.

I shook my head and pointed to Shane, who, as always, had stood silently.

“Ripp’s going to be the SAA. And this fella here…”

“You’re Shane fucking Dekkar,” Toad said excitedly.

Shane pulled his hood from his head and extended his hand. “Sure am. Pleasure to meet you, Sir. And call me Dekk.”

Toad glanced over his shoulder and quickly turned around. “You’ve got to be fucking shittin’ me. You’ve got the Heavyweight Champion of the fucking World as your Vice President? Otis, did you see this?”

A man standing behind him who was no less than six foot six nodded in our direction. “Sure as fuck did. Axton introduced us while you were zoned out.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dekkar, call me Toad. And that fight a while back, against Brock? Best fucking fight I’ve ever seen. We all watched it in our clubhouse. Son-of-a-bitch that was a good fight,” Toad said.

“Thank you, Sir, I appreciate it. He was a tough opponent,” Dekk said.

“Fellas, I want you to meet Staff Sergeant Jacob. Known by his Marine brethren as The A-Train, because when he’s coming, not a fucking thing can stop him,” Toad said to the group of men as he stepped between where we were standing and the building.

The group was standing alongside the motorcycles, facing the building, and Toad was facing the group, waving his arms as if he was announcing the arrival of a celebrity. It was easy to forgive his excitement, because I felt exactly the same way, I only did a better job of hiding my emotion.

Slice stood from the side of what I assumed was his bike. “Well, if all you fuckers are done swapping spit and hugging each other, maybe we should head out to the bar.”