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Seeing Massacre leaning against the far wall, a sense of relief washed over me, knowing he was here and alive. When Maxim handed me his patch back in New York, I thought the worst. That I got another one of my brothers killed because I once again kept a secret.
“Sit down, before you fall, Reaper,” Bullseye ordered as he pointed to the dining room table.
The brothers moved to take a seat themselves.
Walking over to the head of the table, I looked at the chair, then turned back to Bullseye, who stood, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for me to decide something. I may be the President, but I wasn’t. Not technically. I forfeited that when I lied to my brothers and went my own way.
“If you are looking for my permission, you’re gonna be waiting a long time. Just sit the hell down.”
Pulling out the chair, I sat, looking around the table at all my brothers. They didn’t look entirely happy to see me.
I didn’t blame them either.
I went back on my word. Kept another secret from them. Only this time, it wasn’t my secret to tell. I just wanted to keep my wife safe. They couldn’t blame me for that, but the other shit they could.
Instead of coming clean about the alliance with the Soulless Sinners and Maxim Fedorov, I went against my better judgment and left them all out of the loop. Instead of relying on my brothers, I reverted to doing what I always did, and it cost me everything that mattered.
My club.
My brothers.
My family.
My wife.
A moment later, Daphne and Catarina, Player’s wife, walked in carrying a tray of coffee mugs while Daphne carried two pots of coffee, placing them at the center of the table before leaving.
The second the wives left, Bullseye took his seat next to me, leaned forward, placed his elbows on the table, and sighed.
No one moved.
No one said a word.
The silence was deafening.
Spoke volumes, considering not one man at this table had a problem speaking their mind. I put this club through hell over the last several years. We’d lost so much, too much. Some more than others, but the men sitting around the table were my brothers.
My family and now it was time to atone for all the shit I did.
“I don’t know what to say to you all.”
“Better think of something, Prez, ‘cause Bullseye’s ready to shoot your ass,” Massacre smirked, easing the tension around the table as some of the brothers chuckled. Massacre was good at doing that. I missed the goofy brother and was eternally grateful he was with us again.
“I wouldn’t mind doing that myself,” Matrix mumbled, glaring at me.
“Anyone follow you here?” Ravage asked point blank, getting down to business.
“Maybe, I don’t know,” I said, sighing, rubbing the back of my neck. “I just knew I needed to get Sandman to Sunny. He’s in bad shape.”
“This club is in bad shape,” Phantom said, scowling at me.
“Where is Savage?”
“Sent him home to Jessica. He’s gonna take over the Tennessee Chapter. Ravage is transferring here,” Bullseye admitted. “You should also know that I called in the marker with the Soulless Sinners. They owed our club. I wanted to make sure they paid.”
“What did you ask for?”
“Satan’s Angels. Dead. Eradicated. Instead, that cheating mother fucker took the easy way out. Have about ten to fifteen years before those bastards come for us.”
