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Smiling, he says, “It belongs to you now. Wear it with your head held high, good intentions, and your gun at your hip.”
Fucking hell.
He pulls me in for a hug and then I’m surrounded by brothers offering their congratulations.
“Alright, calm down,” I holler and they all back up. Once I have their attention, I grip the patch and inhale deeply.
“I knew this was coming yet I guess I didn’t quite believe it. You fuckers know I’d die for anyone of you, that I’ll stand at your side in any fight, and I promise the lot of you, I’ll always lead us in the direction we need to go.”
“Lost Souls till we die!” Pope hollers and the bar descends into chaos. The music is cranked up, and the bar becomes a hive of brothers wanting a drink.
Dad tips his chin. “You better get that sewn on. Wouldn’t wanna lose it.” He joins Sparky and Slade at his table.
Grabbing the sewing kit from behind the bar, I seek out a quiet table in the corner and set to work.
In all the years I dreamed of this moment, it was always tinged with sadness. I always imagined I’d get the gavel because my dad had been taken out. I’m glad it’s gone down this way.
A shot of tequila appears in front of me, and I look up to see JJ pulling out a chair. I neck the shot and get back to sewing on my patch.
“How did the vote go?” I ask quietly.
“It was weird as fuck. Only because some of the old fuckers don’t like change, but not one brother voted against ya.”
I exhale a breath of relief and pause my task.
“You’ll be sewing your own new patch soon enough.”
Grinning, he looks over his shoulder to our dads across the bar.
“I’m happy to let Dad take his time saying his goodbyes.”
He stands and grabs my empty glass. “Another?”
Shaking my head, I say, “I’ll take a beer. I’ll finish this and I’ll join ya.”
Before I can pierce the leather, I smell her perfume and lo-and-behold, I look up to see Zara taking JJ’s seat. Her skirt is so short it leaves nothing to the imagination and her top is so tight her cleavage is in danger of spilling over.
“Congratulations on the new patch.”
“Thanks.”
I concentrate on the job at hand and hope she fucks off without having be told to do so. But I’m not that lucky.
“Now you’re out of the hospital, how about I congratulate you personally?”
I stop sewing.
The first time I fucked her, I was sick after. I was wasted and the combination of too much drink and a bucket full of guilt had me hovering over the toilet for ten minutes.
“I might come and find you later.”
Happy enough with my lie, she disappears, and I finish my task. Tying off the last knot, I snap the tread and smooth over my work.
“How you feeling?” Dad asks, joining me.
“Like the weight of the club is already crushing in on my chest.”
The fucker tips his head back and laughs.
