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Fuck the clubhouse rules. My sister has lost my mother already; I’m not spending my evening telling her our father is gone, too. No way in hell.
“Where are the shots coming from?” Axel grunts, tossing his cigarette butt on the ground with a huff as he reaches for his weapon.
“I don’t know, but I’m not sharing the same death day as that fucker, so let’s get moving.”
I scoff at Gray’s choice of words, but follow the other members as everyone heads for the clubhouse. Nobody rushes to grab Prez or Bill. We can retrieve the bodies later. Right now we need to take care of ourselves and figure out what the hell is going on.
It doesn’t bode well that Ryker still hasn’t spoken a word, leaving him lost in his head as he watches his revenge slip through his fingers. There’s no need for us to meet with the informant tonight now that it’s all gone to shit.
Axel grabs the door and holds it open for the last of us to get inside the clubhouse, and when he pulls it closed behind us, I internally groan at the level of noise. Children are crying, women are sobbing, and members of the MC are demanding answers. I’m just as bewildered as they are, but one thing is for certain. We need a meeting. Now.
Heading toward the bar area, I keep in step with my closest brothers, when Ryker clears his throat and pounds his fist on the wooden countertop. Everybody quiets down, apart from the children, but it’s not their attention he’s garnering.
“Church. Now.”
Anger vibrates from him, his voice sharper than usual as he turns and heads for Church. We trudge from the room, following his direction. My fingers run over the skull engraved into the thick wooden door, as they do every time we enter, before I find myself among the men.
Murmurs circulate as Axel and Gray take a spot on either side of me, and Ryker hovers behind the seat reserved for the VP. I catch a glimpse of my father as he steps into the room, head down and shoulders bunched. He’s getting too old for this shit, but there’s no telling him that. I’m just thankful Emily is at college and not here to witness this.
Before Ryker begins talking, I pull my cell phone out and quickly shoot off a message to the prospect I have shadowing her on campus. I offer him a clipped version of what’s happening here, while wanting to make sure he has eyes on her.
I don’t get a chance to even tuck my cell phone away before a response comes through, confirming his visual.
Thank fuck for that.
Raking my fingers through my wavy blond hair, I pull it back off my face and secure a hair tie at my crown, flicking the ends into a bun, as Ryker paces.
The final member steps into the room, closing the door behind him, and the room falls into silence. “I’m trying to figure out what the fuck just happened out there, but I’m falling short because nothing makes sense,” he starts, leaning on the back of his seat. “Who the fuck targeted us today? I know we have ongoing issues with the Ice Reapers and the occasional dust up with the Devil’s Brutes, but assassination? Surely, that’s above their fucking pay grade.”
I tug at my short beard as I consider that fact too.
We live a dangerous life, and this is a lethal game, but moves like this haveneverbeen made before. Someone has gotten bold, it seems.
Ryker’s knuckles whiten around the seatback as fury threatens to overcome him. I can practically hear his thoughts, questioning whether or not he actually wants retribution for the man we’re sure killed his father. The reality of the situation is bigger than him though, and he knows it.
It’s not about avenging Prez or Bill; it’s about the club’s reputation, the Ruthless Brothers. The question is—Who do we rain hell down on?
“We need to retaliate, Ryker. We need to act fast with total annihilation.” Members at the table hum their agreement at Axel’s statement, and I can’t say I blame them. Ryker will do it for the club, but he should also be doing it for himself.
Whoever took Prez and Bill out today, stole that right away from him.
“The issue with retaliation, Ax, is the fact that we don’t have a fucking Prez to make that decision,” Ryker retorts as he starts to pace again.
He can’t be this crazy or blind to everything we’re seeing and how it’s unfolding. He must be too caught up in his fucking thoughts to see the reality before him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to lay it out for him, when my father speaks first. “All in favor of our VP, Ryker Holden, stepping up to become our permanent Prez, raise your hand.”
Ryker’s eyes widen as they dart to Gray, Axel, and I, but he doesn’t utter a word as every man at the table lifts their right hand in confirmation. The only man that would have likely stood in the way was Becker, but he’s no longer here.
After a moment passes, the vote is unanimous. Taking in the raw emotion in the room, Ryker moves in slow, calculated steps around to the head of the table where the Prez’s chair sits.
It’s an unspoken rule that the Prez must be seated before we go any further with plans, so the tension, excitement, and pride rises around the room as Ryker takes his rightful spot at the head of the table as the leader of our club.
The second his ass is perched in his seat, Gray claps his hands once, rubbing them together as he asks the question, “What’s our next move, Prez?”
This whole fucking thing is bizarre as fuck right now, but I don’t miss the smile on my father’s face as he nods in Ryker’s direction.
“We need to figure out where this attack came from,” Ryker starts, tapping his fingers on the table mindlessly.
Duffer scoffs from across the room. “It sure points in the direction of the Ice Reapers, Prez. After what happened to your father, on the anniversary of his death… Fuck, I can’t see this being anyone but them.”
