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Since Kevlar didn’t have a gavel, he slapped the table to begin church.

“Alright, let’s start this meeting by going over the progress with the clubhouse,” Kevlar said.

“Final inspections are next week,” Torch reported. “We should do fine. My buddy who works with the city said we’re good to go.”

Kevlar nodded. “We should have everything set for October. Kelsey teamed up with Harper. So, on top of the costume contest deal, we’ll be doing a toy ride and fundraiser for the troubled youth foster program Harper works with.”

“I got two artists lined up to do flash tattoos. All the proceeds will go to the charity,” Kid said.

“Anyone from national coming?” Frog asked.

“We got a lot of maybes,” Kevlar said with a shrug. “But I suspect there will be some representation from the surrounding states.”

Kid wondered if Frog was really asking if Jameson would show up. Probably not. Their national president was big into the dark arts and stuff. Kid was willing to bet he had his own shindig going on in Washington for Halloween.

“The next order of business.” Kevlar turned his attention to Frog and gestured toward the man.

The older gentleman sat forward, leaning over the table and joining his hands together. Resting on his elbows, he glanced from Kevlar to Kid and then Torch as he cleared his throat, his gaze fixated on the center of the table where they’d slapped a large Royal Bastards sticker.

“With Jameson’s blessing, I’m formally requesting to relinquish my nomad patch and take on the bottom rocker of OKC,” he declared.

“What’s the deal with the Russians?” Kid asked.

Frog’s jaw shifted left and right slowly, but he kept his eyes focused on crowned skull emblem. “My boy is mixed up with them. Nothing too serious.”

“Will it bring heat on us?” Kevlar asked.

“Shouldn’t.” Frog shook his head. “The kid just needs a better father figure. Apparently, my ex’s ex left her few years ago, and my kid’s been acting up.”

Kid turned his attention to Lionel. While Kid hadn’t a clue what Frog had done for Jameson and the Royal Bastards in general, he knew exactly what Lionel had sacrificed for this chapter specifically. If anyone deserved to be patched in, Lionel did.

“I don’t need to be an officer or anything,” Frog said on a sigh. “I’m only looking out for my son.”

Kevlar flicked his gaze to Lionel and then returned to Frog. “We could use a secretary.”

“Road Captain is spoken for,” Torch, who wore the sergeant at arms patch, announced.

Frog arched a brow but said nothing.

“When will that be official?” Kid asked.

Kevlar sat back in his seat as he slowly spun his empty glass on the table. “When we get our clubhouse up and running.”

“Why are you putting it off?” Torch asked, uncharacteristically annoyed.

Kevlar glared in his direction. “I’m not.”

Folding his arms over his chest, Torch stared accusingly at him.

“Lionel deserves a proper patch party.” Kevlar gestured to the man off to the side. “We can’t do that until the clubhouse is ready. After all the pomp and circumstance charity bullshit, we can officially patch him in.”

“Then why not wait for both?” Kid asked. “Frog and Lionel together?”

“Because Frog has a patch,” Kevlar said quickly.

“So, we’re gonna vote on Lionel today and formally patch him at the clubhouse?” Torch asked.

Kevlar shook his head. “No. We do both together.”