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Chapter Eleven
Blast From the Past
Beast
Every member is silent while we wait for Pope and Sparrow to enter the old conference room we use to hold church. After I spoke to Irene, I called all the members that weren’t on the run with us and told them to meet us here. Sparrow was, and is still, our vice president. Pope wouldn’t replace him. Didn’t even contemplate it in the two years he was gone. It’s one of the things that drew me to the Gypsy Bastards in the first place—their complete loyalty toward each other.
Every member is seated at the scuffed-up table surrounded by mismatched chairs. The other three prospects, along with Bishop and my brother Justice, are standing in the corner of the room.
Pope enters and takes his seat at the head of the table. Sparrow stands in the doorway and stares at the vacant seat to the left of our club president. He tries to swallow down the emotion he is feeling but it’s palpable to every person in attendance. He wasn’t sure what he would be returning to, but we left everything exactly the same as it was the day he walked out to grieve away from us.
Over the back of his chair hangs his leather cut with his patch embroidered into it. His hands skim over the leather before he pulls it off the chair and pulls it on like he never stopped wearing it. A raucous round of applause accompanied by hoots and hollers fills the room. Sparrow takes his seat with a grin spread across his face as everyone calms down.
Pope speaks when everyone is finally silent. “As you can all see, Sparrow has returned to us.” He turns his head to face Sparrow. “I hope this is a permanent return.”
“It is.” Sparrow nods, and everyone smiles.
“Well,” Pope continues as his gaze lands on each of us. “Let’s get to business. Thanks to Beast we are now running the Cammareri shipments through our territory. That means we get a substantial cut from all their deals, more than we ever got from anyone else.”
“I don’t know what kind of magic you worked on those brothers,” Wolf chirps in. “But they were happy to agree to all our terms.”
Bishop and I smile together before I nod. I don’t fare well with too much praise, I never have, but I’m happy to have brought this to my club. It helps everyone in the long run.
Pope looks at the screen of his cell phone before laughing. “It seems that Storm, Hadley, Kaiya, and Irene will be going out tonight. The children are being taken care of at Mad Dog’s house and we men have been delegated to the club. Any opposition?” No one says anything so he continues. “Both Justice and Bishop have been prospects for longer than a year. In my opinion, they have earned their patches. Any opposition?”
He gives us a moment to think it through before banging his gavel on the table. I didn’t for a second think anyone would be opposed. Justice took a bullet for Wolf during his first month as a prospect, basically cementing him as one of us. And Bishop took care of Storm and Brogan, Pope’s son, when he wasn’t there. He is also the person that ensured Sparrow could avenge the death of his wife. Giving us a chance to object is merely a formality.
“Next week we will have the patching ceremony and a welcome home party for Sparrow. Everyone knows what to do to get this organized, so let’s do that.”
The other three prospects have been around a while but none of them have proven they have what it takes to be a Gypsy Bastard.
“And keep your eyes and ears open if you see anyone that might be a good fit for the club,” Mad Dog adds. “We always need new blood coming in to do the shit we don’t want to.”
Everyone laughs before Pope lifts his hand. “That’s all for today. Let’s grab a drink.”
The women are nowhere to be found when we get downstairs. Justice steps behind the bar and starts handing out drinks with a smile.
Everyone is just happy to be here again. All of us together.
****
A couple of hours and a lot of drinking later, Sparrow lets out a low whistle.
“Maldito infierno, woman,” he exclaims with his palm pressed to his chest. “You are looking fine.”
“What was that? Spanish?” Irene asks as she smiles up at him.
“Yeah. I said fucking hell,” he says and smirks.
“Nice try.” She pats his cheek while moving past him and kissing Viking’s cheek before exiting the side door.
“She’s something, that one,” Sparrow says as he takes a seat beside me. “Anyone hitting that?”
I feel like smashing his face against the solid wooden bar repeatedly. I want to tell him to leave her alone, that she’s mine, but I can’t do that because it’s not true. Viking doesn’t have the same problem, though, because he smacks Sparrow on the back of his head before speaking.
“That woman is not some random piece of ass for you idiots to run through because you’re bored and want to get your fucking dicks wet.”
“Damn, Viking.” Sparrow rubs at the spot. “It was just a question.”
