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Crash nodded. “Pent-up aggression. Invincible bad-asses with no problem taking care of business, even if that comes down to killing someone, when it’s deserved. That’s a pretty potent combination. When you go into a bar, you’ll always have someone who will poke a shoulder into you or otherwise imply you should fuck off. Happens in every bar across the world. Most people just ignore things like that.” Crash shrugged. “If you do that to an Evil Dead member, the whole club is going to turn and knock you out. You mess with one, you mess with us all.”
Again they nodded.
Crash continued, “But at the same time, I have to say that while the MC ends a lot of fights, we usually don’t start many. In a lot of cases, the fights are the result of some sort of stupid jealousy or the need for a dumbass to test his own manhood and earn bragging rights for fighting a member. When we go into bars, we don’t just cower down in the corner or lie low. We go in extremely fucking confident. Maybe we’re loud. And, by the way, one of the requirements of being a member is staying in top physical shape. Mack demands it. You may have noticed that we’re not a bunch of beer-bellied slouches. So, with us being mostly young and in great shape, people take notice. Girls gravitate toward a group of Evil Dead, and maybe that makes their boyfriends jealous. Or guys want to prove something for some other reason, either way, things escalate and fights happen.”
“Sounds right up our fucking alley,” Jake admitted with a grin as he finished off his beer.
“Just think about it.” Crash advised. “You do this, you need to go into it with your eyes open. This ain’t no social club. It’s not just paying dues and showing up when you can. Dedication is expected and required. Attendance to everything is mandatory. It’s a commitment to your brothers that has to come first above everything else. It’s about dedication and trust. The chapter members have to trust that no matter what, you’re going to have their backs. 100% of the membership have to vote you in. That means every single member has to trust you implicitly. Part of that trust is you don’t lie to your brothers. Ever.”
They both nodded.
Crash stood up, observing, “Looks like you’re ready for a refill.” He headed inside to get a few more beers, giving them time to discuss it among themselves. He believed they had what it took, but he wanted them to be sure they understood what they were getting into. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he heard Shannon call to him softly.
“Crash?”
Looking over, he saw that the light on the bedside table was still on. He paused in the doorway to the bedroom. She was sitting up in his bed, the covers around her waist. She had on that sexy silk camisole set again. His eyes slid down to the pillows she held out to him. Smiling, he crossed to take them out of her hands. “Thanks. Night, Shannon.” As he turned to leave she grabbed his arm stopping him. He looked back at her with a questioning look on his face.
“I feel guilty taking up this big bed all by myself,” she confessed.
A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. “You offerin’ to share, sweetheart?”
She shrugged. “As long as you keep your hands to yourself.”
“Not sure I can promise that, Princess.”
“I was just trying to be nice. Sleep on the couch for all I care.”
“Maybe it’s you who won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself,” he suggested with a grin.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I can manage.”
He winked at her. “We’ll see. Go on to sleep. I’ll be up with these boys for a while.” He moved to switch the lamp off. “Night, Princess.”
When Crash returned to the rooftop, he sat staring quietly at the lights of the Bay Bridge.
“So, has Shannon ever reacted like that before?” Shane asked quietly.
Crash frowned. “She’s had a few meltdowns. Not sure if it ties back to her ex-boyfriend or what. I haven’t been able to get her to talk about it. She just gets all defensive.”
“Her reactions are classic PTSD,” Jake murmured.
Crash looked over at him and slowly nodded. “Could be. Either of you have any problems with that since you’ve been out?”
Jake ran a hand over his face and admitted softly, “I have bad dreams. Trouble sleeping. Shit like that.”
Crash looked over at Shane. “You?”
“I’m on edge a lot. Don’t like someone walking up on me and startling me. I tend to overreact.”
Jake smiled and ratted him out. “He’s decked more than one guy for that.”
“It’s getting better, though, thank God,” Shane admitted.
After about another hour of talking and drinking up on the rooftop, Crash stood. “Well, boys, I don’t know about you, but I’m beat.”
“Yeah, me too,” Jake agreed.
“Hell, it’s so nice up here on the roof. I could sleep in this chair,” Shane murmured slumped back with his eyes closed.
