Page 38 of Tick Tock, Boom!

He didn’t have to clarify. We all knew what he meant.

“Every week it’s another fresh face,” Guardian added. “Most of ’em ain’t got bikes. They’re not here to ride. They’re here tomuscle.”

Then Brim slammed his palm on the table. “This shit needs to stop. Right now.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Bulldog rasped.

“Then fucking do something,” Saddle growled. “Rancid’s stacking bodies like we’re gearing up for war. Those men ain’t club. They don’t ride with us. They don’t bleed with us.”

“They’ll tear this club apart,” Hart added, voice low and dark. “One crack in the foundation, and the whole goddamn house goes down.”

I looked at Bulldog, waiting.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. He just stared at the table like he was counting ghosts. He took a slow drag of his smoke and exhaled like the weight of the world lived in his lungs. He hadn’t smoked for years, not since his son, Elrik, was born.

“I know,” he said. Voice low, graveled. “I’ve been watching him. Listening.”

“Then why haven’t you shut it down?” Brim snapped.

"Why haven’t you put a bullet in his skull yet?" Virgil asked, his voice laced with that eerie, lifeless calm only he could pull off.

Bulldog’s eyes darkened. “Because I want to see how far he’d go.”

“And?” I asked, jaw tight.

He looked up at us, at the brothers who helped build this club from nothing, and finally said the thing we all knew was coming.

“He’s coming for my seat.”

Silence fell, not shock, just confirmation. We’d all seen it, the way Rancid had started making decisions without permission, bringing in outside muscle, whispering to younger prospects like he was already patching them intohisfuture.

He wanted the gavel.

Bad.

“Over my dead body,” I muttered under my breath.

“He doesn’t give a fuck about this club,” Guardian muttered. “He wants the crown, not the responsibility.”

“He wantspower,” I said coldly. “And he’s building an army to take it.”

Bulldog nodded slowly. “He thinks I’m too old. Too tired to fight.”

“Youare,” Saddle said bluntly. “You’ve been bleeding for this club since before some of these punks were born. No one’s questioning your legacy, Brother, but maybe it’s time.”

Bulldog looked at him. “You’re saying I should step down?”

“We’re saying it’s time to vote for someone who willrespectwhat you built,” Saddle said. “Before Rancid poisons it from the inside out.”

No one spoke.

Then Cipher leaned forward, voice quiet but firm. “There’s only one name that makes sense.”

We all knew who it was, and we all looked at Bulldog. He didn’t speak. Just stared down at the table.

“Elrik,” Saddle said, calm and solid. “Your son.”

Bulldog’s jaw clenched. A muscle twitched near his temple. “He’s not ready.”

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