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“This club doesn’t have one tenth the fuckin’ power it used to – not under Jack Pollari,” Lou shouted. “There’s nowhere near the money there used to be – not under Jack Pollari. Fuckin’ moles tunnel their way in under our defenses, thanks to Jack Pollari. So, knowing all that – and knowing that I, for one, want the club to get its balls back – I’m callin’ a vote. Who’s with me in removing Jack Pollari as president of the Midnight Riders?”
There was a huge chorus of Yes’s and Fuck Yeahs.
I noticed a few of the guys kept their mouths shut, but they were in the distinct minority.
“All opposed?” Lou asked.
“I say go fuck yourself,” Jack said coldly.
“I’ll second that,” Kade added, deadpan.
Lou looked around at Kade, a grim smile on his lips. “And who votes to have Jack’s buttboy here removed as Sergeant-at-Arms?”
Another chorus of Yeahs.
“I nominate Lou as President,” a guy with a black tattooed eyeball shouted.
“I second that,” another biker said.
“Who says yes?” shouted another.
Well over half the club shouted in approval.
“Who says no?”
No one spoke out in opposition. The few who would have voted ‘no’ looked at each other fearfully, unsure of what to do.
The vast majority of the club hooted and clapped and stomped their feet in approval.
Lou stood there, arms outstretched, drinking in the adulation with a falsely modest smile. When the shouts died down, he turned back to us, his captives.
“Sorry, Jack,” Lou said, his voice fake-sympathetic. “You’re out.”
The look of wounded betrayal on Jack’s face nearly killed me.
Because it wasn’t directed at Lou.
It was directed at me.
MIDNIGHT OBSESSION
1
Fiona
Icame to Richards, California a week ago to find out who murdered my cousin Ali.
In the last five minutes, I’d nearly been murdered myself.
Lou Shaw, the brutal but clever VP of the Midnight Riders, had somehow discovered I had a secret. He put a gun to my head and accused me of working with the DEA.
Which was true… sort of.
An undercover DEA agent named Eddie Deacon had infiltrated the MC over the last three years. A couple of nights ago he’d basically blackmailed me into helping him get closer to the president of the club:
Jack Pollari.
The man I was in love with.
