Page 16 of His End Game

“Ricky?”

“Aye.”

“I know how you feel, brother,” I say to Pope, “But I need to hear it.”

“Aye.”

“Dex?”

He once saved my life and all these years later, I still don’t feel like I’ve made it up to him. Out of us all, he’s quieter and more reserved. He and Libby are perfectly happy, living out in the sticks on their own. Every now and then when I think about it, I’m jealous.

“I believe in you, and if you believe Leo should be your successor, I won’t go against you. Aye.”

With a table full of ayes, it’s done. Everything I’ve built will be handed down to my son. He will take my legacy and I have no concerns he will fail.

Smiling, I raise the gavel. “From this night forward, Leo Jackson is your president. Lost Souls till we die!”

Pope slams the table. “May he live long enough to pass it down too!”

Cheers and hollers fill the room, the silence of pressure long gone.

“Where is our new president?” Myles asks.

“He’s on his way,” I say and stand.

Flipping the gavel in my hand, I slam it down and the rest of the pressure dissipates.

“Go on, go get a drink. Leo won’t be long,” I instruct.

I wait till the room clears and fall back into my chair. Pulling my knife out of my pocket, I flick it open and lay it on the table. I shrug out of my cut, laying it on the table before me and run my finger over my patches. I’ve put my whole life into them, and I’ve got more in return than I ever imagined. I remember the pride that filled me the night I first wore the president patch. I’ll always carry it with me and now, I get to carry on, watching my club grow stronger under my son at the gavel.

Picking up my knife, I carefully slice under the fabric until every stich has been severed. A rush of breath escapes me, and I place the patch above my cut. It should feel wrong, but it only feels right. Maybe it’s because the patch is going to my son. Shrugging back into my cut, I pocket the patch and close my knife.

With one last glance over my shoulder, I smile at the memories this room holds and I step out into the bar, another last glance at my chair and close the door. A new era has begun and I’m looking forward to seeing how it plays out.

Brothers note the blank space where my patch once sat and quickly look away. Sparky pushes a glass of whisky into my hand, and I throw it back in one gulp. Sliding the now empty glass on the bar, the prospect is quick to refill it.

“Any regrets?” Sparky asks.

“Absolutely none.”

I wouldn’t have put the club through this change if I had one doubt in my head or in my heart. The Lost Souls will move forward and meet the glory days once again.

“You feel any different?” Slade asks.

“Should I?” I snort.

“I would’ve thought so. You’ve taken quite the drop in position.”

“Nah.” I sigh. “I haven’t taken shit. I gave it away. There’s a difference.”

He drops his eyes from mine and the words on his lips stay where they are.

“Whatever you’ve gotta say, say it,” I urge.

“I voted for Leo because I don’t doubt he’ll be able to do the job. But I worry about you. Do you even know who you are without the top patch?”

“It’s time I found out, don’t you think?”

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