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This was our main hub, where we completed most of the work, but we also had a storefront in the center of town where people could drop off and pick up their vehicles, motorcycles, and heavy equipment. Lately, tractors, lawnmowers, and bicycles have been added to the work orders. Every member took shifts at the store, some working more often than others. In addition to the repairs, we changed oil, rotated and changed tires, and provided basic maintenance.
When we arrived, it was dusk, and a prospect opened the gate, allowing us to pass through. With the approaching nightfall, several oil drums were lit, and the fires licked at the air as smoke rose into the darkening sky. The lot was full of bikes, mostly Harleys and members. The club was never quiet or empty.
Tall fences and the same razor wire surrounded the entire compound. There weren’t many windows, and that was intentional. A safety protocol that Hades insisted on when he was voted in as pres almost fifteen years ago. At the end of the buildings, the main garage spread across most of the southern edge of the compound. Multiple customer vehicles were parked in front of the open bays.
Slash parked the truck and opened his door. “Come on, Molly.”
She tugged her fingers free from my grasp, and I followed her out as Gunner exited on his side.
The doors slammed shut as we brought Molly to the metal door that led inside the clubhouse, opening directly into the bar. The walls were all dark gray except for the one behind the bar, where a mirror ran the length of it, showcasing all the bottles of liquor lined up, ready to serve the club’s members.
To the left was a long hallway and a set of stairs. Member bedrooms were located on the first and second floors, in addition to the public restrooms. The third floor only had officer bedrooms with private bathrooms. The pres had his own apartment.
To the right, the kitchen, a massive cafeteria-style dining room, storage, and the walk-in fridge and freezers took up most of the space.
Behind the bar, Hades had built on the chapel where we held church and his private office. We also had a vast storeroom where all the liquor and supplies for the bar were kept. It was efficient and organized, thanks to Hades and Grave, who stayed on top of that shit and delegated to the prospects.
The bar was the focal point as we entered, and the first thing most people noticed as they entered was the wall of fame covered in framed photos of the club and its members since the founding days back in nineteen eighty-five.
You couldn’t see it from here, but inside the chapel, framed cuts of members we’d lost hung as a reminder that nothing in this life was certain, we all had to meet our maker one day, and that brotherhood, loyalty, and trust were the foundation that brought us together.
Rock music blared from speakers anchored to the walls around the perimeter of the bar.
Molly squinted as we entered, her eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. She seemed a bit intimidated by the crowded room and all the cuts that hung over the members’ shoulders.
The chatter around us lowered to a dull murmur as Hades and Grave turned in our direction. They were both seated on stools and stood, heading toward us.
Maybe we should have warned Molly about Hades and Grave.
Grave, Slash’s uncle, looked like him, only bigger, with a few more scars on his face and a skull-printed bandana wrapped around his head. He never took it off, and I speculated he was balding beneath it but didn’t dare bring that shit up. His long beard touched his chest, and he only wore black.
Hades had thick hair the color of midnight that brushed the top of his shoulders, usually loose with gray sprinkled throughout. His goatee and mustache were trimmed close to his face. He was meticulous about that shit. But it was his glass eye, deep blue, a contrast to the pale green of his real eye, that people always noticed first. Hades loved catching them by surprise. A long scar bisected his left eyebrow, and another tugged the right corner of his lip into a perpetual smirk. He was big, bulky, and most of the club girls fought over his cock.
The floor shook as they approached us, and Molly took a step back. Slash pressed a hand against her lower back to keep her from bolting out the door.
Hades spoke first in that low, raspy tone that carried authority. He never had to yell to get everyone’s attention. He’d earned the respect of each member of this club, and we gave it without hesitation or second thought.
“This her?”
Slash nodded. “Yeah, pres. Molly, this is Hades.”
She stared up at him, biting her lip. “Uh, hi.”
His lips twitched. “We got shit to discuss.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
Grave looked her over. “Anyone follow you?”
Hell no. We made sure of that. “Nope,” I answered, knowing that question was aimed at us, not Molly.
Grave ticked his chin at Gunner. “Any trouble from the Bladed Serpents since the club?”
“None,” Gunner replied low. “Which doesn’t sit well.”
Grave grunted. “Agreed.”
“We need to take this to church,” Hades announced, spinning on his heel to walk in that direction. He paused halfway there, looking toward the bar. “Cora, stay with Molly. No one touches her.”
