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Aziel nods his head and turns back to Easton. Most people know who I am. I’m The Mute and no one really talks to me anyway.
“You brought the ladies with you?” His question is directed at Easton as he looks towards the car.
“Yeah. They’re back at the hotel. You’ll see them tomorrow.” Easton says.
Aziel cocks his head to the side in confusion. “Hotel? I thought you guys were staying here. Could have brought the girls with you, too. We have plenty of room.”
“They’re good. We’re staying at some small hotel on the water. They’ll probably hangout at the beach most of the time anyway.” Truth. I know Rose will park her ass on that sand and not leave until we have to head back if she could have it her way.
Aziel gives him a knowing smile. “Fuckin’ women. All right, come on. I figured we’d go over shit before we head out tomorrow morning. We won’t keep you too long.”
We head inside and are immediately greeted with a group of men standing around a bar area. “Easton!” A giant of a man stands up and walks towards Easton, giving him a bear hug. I see the name President patched on his cut and immediately realize it’s Aziel’s father.
“Lynx. Good to see you, man.” Easton slaps him on the back.
Lynx turns towards me and gives me a warm smile. The man is taller than me, must be about six foot six with about eighty pounds on me. All beefed up muscle, the guy looks like a tank and his beard and tied back brown ponytail put the final touches make up the grungy look all the bikers seem to have. “Jackson. Haven’t seen you in a long time.” He brings a hand out and I give him a firm shake. “Your father talks well about you. Good man, he is.”
Oh my fucking God, someone shoot me.
“Thanks.”
“Should we take this in the other room to finish introductions and go over tomorrow?”
“Sounds good to me.” Easton says, giving me a look that sayskeep cool.
“Barbi! Bring in a round of shots, would ya?”
“No problem, babe.” Some blonde with big tits and curly hair pops out from around the corner and disappears again.
We walk through the room filled with large TV’s and pool tables, and into a room off to the left. A large table fills most of the room and the various members walk in and take their usual spots. Easton and I stand off to the side next to the head of the table as Lynx takes a seat.
“All right, guys. Most of you know Easton.” Easton nods his head and a chorus ofhey, manrings throughout the room.
“And this is Jackson Shaw. Randall’s son. He don’t talk much, so don’t be a cock about it. Go around and say who you are so shit isn’t awkward later.”
“Name’s Cassius.” Comes from a man with a lazy southern drawl with dark eyes and dark hair. Colorful tattoos cover his arms all the way down to his hands and knuckles. The Enforcer is patched on his cut.
I give him a nod.
“Jex.” Treasurer. He has a harsh smile with a scar indented down his face and ending on his upper lip. His black hair is a mane of untamed hair as it falls to his shoulders. Also covered in tattoos, but at this point, it looks like I’m the only one in this room whodoesn’thave any.
“I’m West.” Sgt. of Arms is patched into his cut. His blonde hair makes him look more surfer than biker. He looks like the player at the party that sleeps with a minimum of two girls in a night. Sadly, it reminds me of Logan so much that I can barely even look at him.
“Pascal.” With the patch of Road Captain, his look fits the bill. Filled with more tattoos than skin, he looks rough as hell and like an angry ass motherfucker. His hair is pulled back into a bun at the base of his head and it only accentuates his sharp cheekbones.
“Name’s Niles.” Comes a baritone voice. The patch Member is stitched on his cut. He looks rough around the edges with his sandy brown hair and glossy red eyes. Either this guy is baked as fuck or hungover as fuck.
The weird thing is, is that I planned to come in here and meet with some old greasy fuckers, but the people in this room are young. Not as young as me and Easton, but thirties, maybe forties. The oldest guy is Aziel’s dad, Lynx. And he’s what… maybe late forties, early fifties at the most? Most of the old fucks were outside tinkering on their bikes.
“These bastards are going to be the one’s working with you tomorrow. We’ve got some other members and I know you met our prospect at the gate.” Lynx gravels.
We go over the plan for tomorrow. We’re meeting with the Mexicans at an abandoned gas station near the border. There the Mexicans will be delivering guns to The Seven. Should be easy with no issues. If there were, I think Rich would’ve had more people accompany us from back home. I think the reason we were brought down here was to make sure we wouldn’t fuck anything up. That we were capable of handling tasks like this so we can one day take over the family business.
And since Logan died, and Easton doesn’t want fill Rich’s shoes, I just really hope I don’t fuck this up.
* * *
The next morning,Easton and I are waiting at the gas station when I hear the rumbling of motorcycles grow louder. The sound echoes off the desert sand and vibrates in my chest. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Lynx front and center with the rest of them trailing behind him.
