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He waits until he has our collective attention, then steps aside for Rock. “New York.” He holds one hand in the air. “Deadbranch has reserved a block of rooms for us at a local hotel. Squiggy says it’s a bit of a ride, so anyone who wants to crash here can.” Rock glances up over his shoulder toward the open upstairs. “Beds are limited, though.”
Wrath passes out key cards. “Rooms are limited. Double up.”
Murphy plucks a key card from Wrath’s hand and joins me. “Roommate?” he asks.
Knowing Murphy, he’ll be on the phone with Heidi for about an hour, then crash. That, I can deal with. “Sounds good.”
Our hotel’s a good distance from the clubhouse so a few of us stop at a local mall to grab dinner and do some shopping.
Then I’m ready to crash.
Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.
The next morning, Wrath has us up early and in Rock’s room for a meeting before we head to Deadbranch’s clubhouse.
Jigsaw’s anxiously pacing by the windows, ruffling the floor-length curtains with every pass.
I find Rooster and bump him with my elbow. “Is Jiggy okay?”
Concern creases his forehead. “No. He got a call from his little sister. Needs him to come pick her up in Pennsylvania. Waiting for Z to get here, so I can explain the situation. See if Jiggy can dip right after our sit-down with Priest.”
Rock already told us we were free to leave after the sit-down. “I’m planning to head home as soon as Rock lets us go. I’ll ride with him.”
Rooster blows out a relieved breath. “Thank you. I don’t want him riding alone but Priest already said he wants to speak with me.”
That can’t be good. I don’t want to stress Rooster out, though, so I just nod.
“Everyone settle down,” Z says, clapping his hands for our attention. He and Rock are standing with their backs to the door. Almost like they’re trying to block our escape. “We’re not going to keep you long.”
“Deadbranch is hosting a breakfast for all of us at the clubhouse,” Rock explains. “There will be a short memorial for Digger. Then a sit-down. Every New York brother will be at all three of those events. After that, my guys are free to go home, stick around, or do whatever you want.”
“Same.” Z’s eyes scan the room, stopping on Rooster. “Except for you, motherclucker.”
Rooster’s mouth turns down but he nods to Z.
“Prez!” Stash shouts.
Rock’s wary gaze slides Stash’s way. “Yes?”
“Uh, Digger’s like, um, body ain’t gonna be there for the memorial, right?”
I choke on a laugh.
“Apparently, there wasn’t enough of him to bury,” Z answers. “So no.”
“That’s a relief,” Jigsaw says as he steps up next to me.
I tip my head to the side and study him for a beat. “You all right, brother?”
“No. I wanna get this over with.”
“Rooster told me you need to head out early. I’ll go with you.”
He stares at me for a few seconds. “I’m taking a detour through Larsonville,” he warns.
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Thanks, brother.”
I’m glad Rock gave us the warning about the schedule. Breakfast turns into the memorial service without a break. One that drags on. At a certain point, it feels like brothers trying to show off rather than show the former president respect.
Finally, Priest takes the microphone from someone. “Those were moving words. Thank you, everyone who spoke up. Digger’s going to be missed by everyone who knew him. Now, if you’ll all join us in the chapel, there are a few matters to discuss.”
Squiggy stands by the open chapel doors, welcoming each of us as we step inside. Their chapel’s plain. A large, windowless room with a long table and a mixture of battered metal folding chairs and wooden dining room chairs scattered around. A threadbare sectional and a few equally distressed-looking chairs fill up the corners of the room. A huge white board takes up an entire wall.
Murphy elbows my side. “Can you picture Squiggy plotting world domination with his dry erase markers on that board?” he whispers in my ear.
I snort and choke on a laugh. “Yeah.”
The energy buzzing through the room suggests a lot of us are planning to hit the road after this meeting.
I pull out a chair somewhere in the middle of the table, across from Rooster and Jigsaw. Rock, Z, Wrath, and Grinder take spots on the other side, near the head of the table. Murphy drops into the chair next to me. Butcher sits next to him. Grinder stands and offers his chair to Ice, then takes up a position behind Z. The rest of my brothers fan out around the room. I glance behind me and find Sparky and Stash sitting cross-legged on the floor under the whiteboard.
Squiggy again thanks us for coming, then hands the meeting over to Priest.
Priest stands at the head of the table, looking every bit as intimidating as the national president of a motorcycle club should look. Unlike a lot of guys his age, he’s not sporting a beer gut hanging over his belt. He’s quick and sharp. Even though his boulder-sized SAA never strays far from his side, Priest won’t hesitate to get his knuckles bloody when necessary.
