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So this is it. He’s just a cocky son of a bitch.
“Your bloodline has bled for this club. I always thought Leo was more like me, but I was wrong. You are. I hated every second of prospecting, hated that I was the grunt, hated I was at the brothers’ beck and call. I just wanted the patch, which stopped me from seeing the bigger picture.”
He smirks. “We both know I’ll patch in.”
I bite my tongue.You’re my karma, that’s for sure.
My boy stands and looks down at me. “I’m not going to fuck up, Dad. I don’t know how.”
Standing myself, I pull him in for a hug, and that’s when it hits me. He’s grown so much. He’s just as tall as me.
Slapping him on the back, I release him. “From now on, you’re my prospect. Shit’s going to change. I know you’ll patch in, but you won’t until I believe you’ll keep yourself alive once you’re in. Call in the brothers and tell them I want them in the back room, then go and get some sleep.”
He walks off, and I head for the back room, settling into my chair at the head of the table. Digging out the pain meds, I pop two into my mouth and swallow them down, just as Sparky walks in.
The bags under his eyes are dark, I doubt he got much sleep last night. Luca spreads the word fast, and brothers are soon filtering in, leaving Slade to close the doors.
“How was he?” Mason asks, speaking just after I slam the gavel down.
“He’s determined. He took the rap to keep heat away from us. He’s going to confess this morning, knowing he faces the death penalty, and he wants us to adhere to his wishes.”
“What fucking wishes?” Myles snaps.
My cheeks balloon, exhaling heavily before I relay everything Pope had told me.
“Outcast him? You’ve got to be joking!” Ricky roars, slamming his palm down on the table.
The twins jump to their feet, both barking out, “That’s not happening. No way in Hell.”
Ricky nods to his boys. “Agreed.”
“We can set something in motion and bust him out,” Myles suggests, and then Mason opens his mouth, exclaiming, “Yeah, we can get him up to Mercy. No one will find him up the mountain. All we have to do is keep him out of sight.”
Slamming the gavel on the table top, the twins reluctantly sit down, and silence falls over the room.
“He’s doing this for the club. He doesn’t want to be busted out because he knows it’ll bring the cops back to our door. He’s doing this to keep the cops away. He’s doing this for the patch.”
“It’s scrutiny we can’t afford, and Pope knows it better than anyone,” Sparky adds, leaning back in his chair.
The mood is low, and rightfully so. There’s nothing I can say that’ll change it.
“None of us want to see Pope go down, or be put down, for this. But every one of us knows our brother, and that he has his reasons. Until we dig deeper, we do as he’s asked. We distance ourselves from him, and we do nothing to bring attention to ourselves. Don’t let him do this for nothing.” I’m looking at the twins as I speak. When they both look away, I grit my teeth. I’m going to have to keep a close eye on them.
Taking a deep breath, Dex blows it out slowly. “Pope’s a motherfucker.”
“Yes, he is, but he’s seen everything through this club, and we have to trust him to know what he’s doing.”
“Trust him? With him confessing, that means no trial. He’ll be shipped off and sent straight to prison. He has nothing to prove to anyone here, brothers know his reputation. But on the inside, he’ll just be another old man, someone for them to prey on. He’ll be easy fucking pickings,” Mason argues.
Like I haven’t thought this myself.
“I should let him know you think he’s a little bitch. He can still whoop your ass,” Sparky quips.
“How’s he going to whoop my ass if he isn’t here?”
I look down to the end of the table to Pope’s empty chair. I imagine him sitting there, listening to the fighting going on around the table, and smile when I picture him shaking his head, disapproving of us arguing between ourselves, especially over him.
Chapter Thirty-One
