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He was trying to tackle me from behind.
Stupid idiot forgot about the mirrors on the wall opposite the pool table.
I didn’t even have to judge by sound; I just watched till he got close, then sidestepped at the last minute and tripped him.
He went down in a pile. When he tried to roll over, I straddled him and went to work.
Some of the brothers were about to jump in and pull me off, but John Glynn stopped them with a wave of his hand.
“Moose wanted a fight. He’s gettin’ it.”
So they all just watched until Moose went limp and I finally had mercy.
When I stood up and walked away, John Glynn looked me in the eye.
And nodded, just once.
With approval.
With respect.
Nobody called me Pussy Pollari after that.
I heard ‘Psycho’ and ‘Nutjob’ behind my back a couple of times, but never ‘Pussy.’
Funny, nobody in the club ever tried to fuck with me again.
Moose went to the hospital. Broken nose, broken jaw, severely wounded ego. He never came back to the Midnight Riders. In fact, he totally disappeared from Richards. Nobody cared. I certainly didn’t.
I don’t know for sure what happened to him, but I heard years later he picked another fight in a bar in Sacramento. This time, it really was with the wrong guy. Moose got shot in the head. They said he was dead before he hit the ground.
Dumbass.
Live and learn.
Or don’t learn, and die.
I learned a lot of lessons that night:
Sometimes your enemy isn’t nearly as scary as you think he is.
You can avoid a hundred future fights by winning one very decisively.
Commit 100%. Once you decide to go all in, go all in.
And never, ever back down.
2
The problem was, now I was back in a similar situation… but with an even worse opponent.
Last night, Lou Shaw, my VP of the Midnight Riders, had directly flouted my authority in front of the entire club and murdered a member of a rival gang, the Santa Muertes.
The gunman had probably come to the Seven Veils as part of an arranged hit. Why, I don’t know, and I can’t figure it out. But even if he wasn’t there looking to kill a specific person, the asshole had gunned down one of our youngest club members and then bolted.
I was trying to save the gunman’s life when Lou took matters into his own hands.
Why was I trying to save a worthless, murdering scumbag?
