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“Maybe. It’s business as usual. The Chief would expect us to continue. So, sit down.”
As cool as Dallas Marquez could be, his arrogance was enhanced when he was in the company of his homies. He pounded the gavel on the podium to quiet the chatter. “You are all completely aware our president was shot by the coward Kennedy Townsend this afternoon. I’m sorry for the late meeting, but we need to get matters taken care of sooner than later. As your Vice President, I don’t have the power to change a member’s position. All I can do is order your asses around. “
One prospect spoke up, “When are we going to ambush the Aklark gang and annihilate them?”
The other men cheered him in agreement, only to be stifled by the obnoxious pounding of the gavel. “WE will ambush no one. Chief Dixon’s mantra is sensibility before violence. Evil begets evil. Whatever bullshit he spouts out from time to time. If he was murdered, then hell yeah, we’d go balls out and annihilate Townsend and his bears. Chief is fighting for his life, but he’s very much alive.”
Another member spoke up. “Doesn’t he have a son that could take his place?”
“Do you see his son here? No, you have me to take his place. Like it or lump it, Bro!” Dallas commonly called prospects some general name. He admitted he was terrible with names. Well, he was a terrible vice president also, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. With his lead, we were screwed. “Here is the first order, and I am going against Dixon’s wishes this time. We need to fight for his honor, but we need to build an army since the Aklark’s numbers double ours. Not just in bodies, but firearms, as well. We need some more prospects, so take a day of rest and we will resume the meeting on Monday night. Let’s try to get at least six prospects and they have to ride motorcycles, so don’t just randomly pick whoever is in town.” With another beating of the gavel, Dallas announced, “This meeting is adjourned.”
The other men scattered like rats out of the clubhouse, but I sat frozen with the belief this was a joke and Dallas was mocking the Chief, which would only piss Char off.
“Why are you still here, Stevens?” Dallas asked as he sat beside me. “You think I’m a loser, don’t you?” I shrugged at his question. “Did you send her the ticket?”
“Yeah, she appreciated it, but she said she doesn’t want to see any of the men right now. She holds you guys responsible for not stopping it.”
“We were at a fucking table across the room and it happened so fast, we couldn’t stop it.” Dallas was defensive, yet there was a sorrow set on his face. “It was a set-up. A complete set-up. Townsend was tipped off and knew we were coming.”
“Wait! Do you think there’s a mole in the club?”
He nodded. “Let’s not worry about it tonight. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long, fucking day.”
I slid out of the chair and shuffled my feet out the door. Paranoia hit me like a bag of bricks with the idea none of us were safe if Aklark sent a mole in. Let’s hope Dallas can keep his temper in check and keep his wits about him.
SEVEN
CHARLENE
Although I was rushing through the hospital to ICU, my feet felt like they were stuck in a murky swamp. Exhaustion set in, combined with utter heartbreak. It was all too dizzying and suddenly I collapsed to the floor. I was surrounded by, who I assume, was a couple of members of the medical staff. They were trying to pull me up, but between the uncontrollable sobs and my body frozen, I didn’t budge.
***
When I woke, I never realized I had passed out and noticed I was laying in the hospital bed. To see the IV bag to my left was daunting, as if being in the hospital wasn’t bad enough. I couldn’t be laid up in bed. I needed to see my father. “HELLO?!” I yelled, so infuriated, I didn’t think to push the call button. “HELLOOOOOO!”
A nurse ran in, not exactly happy to see me. “Miss, there is a call button.”
“Oh, am I disturbing you? Why am I in this bed? And—why in the hell do I have an IV needle stuck in me?” I sat up, dangling my feet over the side of the bed, intending to get dressed and leave.
“Miss Dixon. You passed out in the hallway and are severely dehydrated.”
“No shit. I had too much to drink last night. Found out my father is in the ICU and I got no sleep before I had to get on an early morning flight from Seattle.” I stopped talking and glared at the guy, concentrating on his badge to see his name was Trent. “Trent?” He nodded. “How did you know my name?”
“We needed to see some kind of ID and found your student ID and driver’s license.” He checked the IV bag and my vitals before tapping on the tablet.
“I need to see my father. Tyler Dixon?” I choked out his location. “He’s in Intensive Care.”
“Yes, we’re aware. GSW. When you’re up to it, we can take you there. But right now, you need your rest and lunch will be here soon. I suggest you eat or you’ll be in here longer than a few hours.”
Trent wasn’t playing with the well-being of his patients. I plopped on the bed and decided it would be in my best interest to comply. “Trent? Sir?”
He chuckled, “I’m not much older than you are, Miss Dixon. You can call me Trent.”
“Can I bother you for some water? I am super parched.”
***
Days passed and there was never a change in my father’s condition. I spent the entire day with him, reading to him, singing our favorite songs, and telling him about some of my adventures while in school. He never responded, but it was a way I could let him know I was there with him.
