AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“As long as it’s harmless, we could give a shit,” Boomer said. “We’re all about freedom here, and that goes for others as well as our people. But if they’re drawing in the kind of activity that we don’t tolerate in this town, then we need to deal with it.”
“Violent crime,” Pony said.
“Violent crime, hard drugs, stuff that ruins people’s lives,” Boomer said.
“It’s happened before,” Devil said. “There was a group that used to like to race four wheelers through a couple of little towns around here. They also had a thing for running meth. We only found out after there was an overdose that came into the local ER. So we had to put a stop to that.”
“Yeah, little shit like that crops up from time to time and we chase it off,” Wyatt said. “I think of it like pulling weeds in agarden. If you keep up with it while it’s small, usually it’s no big deal and things stay the way we like.”
“Mostly we just warn them off,” Griz said. “That does the trick the majority of the time. Sometimes they don’t get the message and we have to throw them a beating.Thatalmost always does it. If not…”
“I’ve already seen if not,” Pony said. “Death’s Head, Ripper, the whole thing with the Warlords.”
“We know,” Boomer said. “And you stepped up every time. But as a brother, when there’s weeds to pull, you go out and pull them. Even if you just pulled weeds yesterday.”
“Right,” Pony said, then, after a pause, added, “Wait. You said, as a brother.”
A hint of a smile tugged at the sides of Boomer’s lips. “That’s right.”
“Are you saying…”
“What we’re saying, Pony,” Wyatt said, “is, time’s up.”
As one, the brothers leapt to their feet with a yell, grabbing Pony and dragging him out of his chair. Only Boomer remained seated, due to his injuries, watching as the brothers hoisted Pony into the air and carried him out of the meeting room.
Out of the meeting room, and out of the clubhouse, hooting and hollering the entire way. Pony couldn’t do a thing but ride the human wave of hands that held him up over their hands like he was crowd surfing at a rock concert.
Once they were outside, Wyatt brought the parade to a halt, in front of a bonfire raging next to the parking lot. The brothers dumped Pony onto his feet, holding him steady by his arms.
“Something’s wrong, here, gentlemen,” Wyatt said loudly. “Very, very wrong.”
“What’s wrong, Wyatt?” Griz said, saying it in a way that made Pony suspect that it was part of a script.
“This man is wearing a Prospect patch,” Wyatt said. “A Prospect patch, and he is no longer a Prospect at this club.”
“Better take it off him, then,” Griz said. “Who will take this man’s Prospect patch away from him?”
“I will,” Devil said, stepping up close to Pony.
Of all the brothers, Devil had been the one to spend the most time with Pony. Mostly tormenting him, giving him stupid jobs to do, and otherwise driving him halfway insane. Now, he stood close by, with a long bladed knife in his hand.
“You can swear that this man no longer deserves to wear the Prospect patch?” Wyatt said.
“I can,” Devil said.
“Then take it off of him.”
With a quick slash, Devil cut the threads attaching the patch that read PROSPECT to Pony’s vest. Then, with a flourish, he ripped the patch completely off of the vest and threw it dramatically into the fire.
The next time someone spoke, it was Boomer, who had finally caught up to the group in his wheelchair. He wheeled it next to Wyatt, looking Pony over with an approving nod.
“Pony,” he said, “You have done everything asked of you during your time with this club. More than once, you’ve gone above and behind. Now, you are a prospect no longer.”
More shouts and hollers from the crowd, and Boomer held his hand up for quiet before continuing.
“This is the last chance for objections before we proceed,” he said. “Is there any man here who objects to Pony being made a full brother in this club?”
There was silence, the only sound being the crackling of the bonfire.
