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“Don’t fucking judge me! You don’t know half the shit I’ve been through, half the shit I’ve done-”
“We’re all ears, brother, if you want to tell us-” Jared said.
“Fuck off! I don’t want to fucking tell you, I don’t want to talk about it!” Lyle yelled. “I just want to have a drink, ‘cause then I can’t hear the fucking screaming all the fucking time, okay? All day, all night, it’s all I hear-”
“Who’s screaming?” Ash asked quietly.
“None of your fucking business!” Lyle burst out, standing.
Colt stood, too. “Either you sit down and shut up or you’re out, Lyle. Fine, rehab obviously didn’t work but if you think we are giving up on you to just drink yourself to death, then you’re wrong, okay? We’ll figure something else out, or you go. If you think you’ve got the VP spot, then you must be fucking off your face drunk, ‘cause I sure as hell don’t trust you an inch. You’ve lied to all of us and you’ll make it up to us. Or you go. What do you want to do?”
Lyle stared back at Colt. A stand off, both men angry. Both men equally matched in terms of height, but Colt was fit and sober, whereas Lyle was clearly not up for a fight. He swayed slightly on the spot. Phantom wanted to catch him but knew Lyle would push him off and reject his help.
“Fine,” Lyle spat, sitting down, his eyes burning a hole in the table.
Colt clicked his neck and lowered back into his chair himself. “Right, I’ll tell you who my VP is, for now. Who I want sat at my side, who I trust to have my back and who I know would have all of your backs, too.”
Everyone held their breath.
“April.”
April did a double take at Colt, sat beside her, holding their son. “Me?” she said shrilly. “Colt, I’m not a member.”
“You are now. Women are allowed to be members. You’re my VP.”
She put a hand to her chest, stunned. Beautiful April, her blonde hair flowing down her back, baby Chase blinking innocently up at them all, in the sling. Phantom saw April and wanted Sophie. His woman.
“Members have to have a motorcycle,” Lyle pointed out smugly.
Rita was tapping away on her phone. “Here’s one, second hand Harley Softail Slim, for sale locally-”
Lyle rolled his eyes. “You can’t just find one on the internet-”
“Buy it,” Rafe muttered.
Rita tapped the phone. “Bought. It’s April’s now. We can go pick it up today.”
“You have to be able to actually ride your motorcycle-”
“Could you?” Ash threw back.
Lyle blinked.
“If I said to you, get on your bike and ride, could you? Or would you be over the limit? Would it be unsafe and illegal, Lyle?”
Lyle gaped back wide eyed, slack jawed.
“Just as I thought. Sit down and shut up, Lyle. We’ll deal with you later,” Ash said.
“Don’t get me started on you. Smallest guy as the fucking Sergeant at Arms, this MC is a fucking joke-”
Phantom stood up now. He’d had enough. Lyle had offended his brothers, his MC, and Phantom wouldn’t stand for it. He was behind Lyle in a second. His arm went around the front of Lyle’s throat. Phantom put the crux of his elbow over the front of Lyle’s throat, his bicep and forearm pressing on the arteries. A blood choke. It was routine. Phantom didn’t think about it. Lyle struggled but Phantom felt barely any fight from him. He knew that feeling only too well. Lyle was giving up. The others at the table stared on.
Ash’s phone pinged. Ash pulled it out, stared at the screen for a moment then swore. “Shit.”
“What?” Colt asked.
“Steel… he says the security cameras… someone tried to hack them… an attempted break in-”
