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“I’m here, Prez,” Zeke calls out from the entryway that leads to the rooms we use to stay over at the clubhouse.
“Call church now.
I’ll be in there in a second,” I call as I make my way to the bar. I slam a shot glass down and pour some of our tequila to the brim and shoot it back.
The burn feels good going down my throat. I glare at Cherry, noticing she’s standing right in front of me across the bar counter.
“Now is not a good time,” I say, pouring a second shot.
“If you need help with anything, I’ll be right here,” she smiles demurely.
“What the fuck can you do?” I sneer.
“I’ve done plenty in the past for your moods, Prez. You know I can make you feel good,” she pouts, crossing her arms, accentuating her tits that look like they may spill out of her top.
I roll my eyes and head to church.
I close the door behind me and bark to the room, “I want blood!”
Zeke pipes up, “Prez; we have a meeting with the Havoc Ryder’s Prez and VP this afternoon. We’ll meet on neutral ground.”
“Do they know why we want to meet?” I ask, looking at my father’s best friend daring him to give me excuses.
“I kept it vague so that we have the element of surprise,” Zeke confirms.
“Alright,” Misfit butts in and asks, “are we bringing a show of force to this meet?”
Zeke answers, “no.
I promised out of respect to your father’s arrangement with the Ryders that the meet would just be the Prez and me.”
“Fuck that, old man,” Misfit hits the table with his fist, glaring at Zeke.
“We’ll do it your way Zeke,” I begin and stress, “for now.”
I hit my gavel and get up from the table. I open the door and notice Cherry is no longer within eyesight. I’m relieved when I get to my bedroom and find it empty. I half expected her to be waiting for me.
***
Several hours later, I’m putting my kickstand down and taking off my lid. I see Red and his VP standing near the bleachers. We’re meeting at the events section of the fairgrounds. I feel a pang; I’ve not been here since my Dad took me to a monster truck rally when I was 13 years old.
Red Milburn has been the Ryders’ Prez since before I was born. Once upon a time, the Ryders and the Saints were at odds, but my father told me that he was tired of the chaos and found a way to coexist.
Zeke was the first to speak, “how’s life Red?” he asks.
I approach and nod.
“Good, old man, this is my VP, Nathan Pine, but he goes by Piney,” Red says with his raspy, smokers voice. He gets out his Marlboro Red’s and gestures the box to us. Zeke and I shake our heads, but Piney takes a stick out and pulls out a zippo lighter to ignite both.
After Red exhales the smoke, I say, “I need answers.”
Red looks at me through the smoke and chuckles, “yeah, Ares, what are your questions?” his eyes glitter with amusement.
“Why did you try to kill my brother?”
Piney speaks for the first time, his cut tight around his plump body, “what the actual fuck?” he asks. The cigarette paused in mid-air, all but forgotten.
