Page 120 of Savage Outlaw

“Butcher. You know what this is about? I’m taking Poppy into the city tomorrow for some shopping shit she wanted to do, so a beatdown is gonna mess with that.” He said it with a half-smile and Butcher laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. Behind Texas he gave a chin jut to Pretty-boy and Snake, who tossed down the pool cues and ambled over.

“Nah, you know we’re sneakier than that, we’d get you when you’re not expecting it.”

“Yeah, what do you take us for, Tex?” Piped Snake, slinging an arm around the guy’s shoulders.

“Good to know,” smirked Texas.

“Come on, the others are waiting on you.” Pretty-boy said and they led Texas down to the double church doors which were closed.

Texas turned wary eyes on the boys because he knew no one not patched in could cross those doors. Not even a prospect without invite. “What’s going on, anyone gonna fill me in?”

“All in good time, come on.”

There was something about this windowless room Butcher liked. It felt historic, important and he loved taking his seat, no matter what the meeting was gonna be about that week.

It was a brotherhood. A connection to something more than the air and the dust. When they were put in the ground, their time on this earth would mean something to know they’d sat right here and been a part of this elite club.

Their church table with its old oak and worn chairs was the rightest place for all them. When life had been shit, they had this place. When life was good they celebrated around this table.

Around him, the boys soon took their seats. The others had been waiting already and only Lawless’ seat was empty. Even Arson had miraculously turned up for church.

Texas remained standing by the door with his gaze down to the head of the table where Rider resided as president. Stoic and killeresque as always was Hawk at his side, sprawled in his chair with his finger tapping on the table, his silver wedding band glinting every now and then.

“You look worried, Texas.” Half-smiled the prez.

“I didn’t think I’d ever stand in this room again. Kind of thrown me a bit if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, I get that. A lot of shit’s gone down since.”

A collective rumble of agreement went around the room. Preacher, the biggest bastard there, started tapping his row of silver rings on the tabletop, adding more scratches to the ancient wood.

Every mark and gouge on that wood held a story. A story of time and brothers going to battle and having each other’s backs.

It was Rider who commanded the room with his southern drawl, smoothed out over the decades he’d spent in Colorado.

“We want you back in.” He announced and every biker around that table waited with a smirk on his face at a frozen Texas.

“You want me back?”

“Yeah,”

“In the club?”

A few snickers.

“Yeah.”

“But … I don’t get it.”

“Fucking hell, Tex. You’re the money man, if you don’t get it, then we’re all fucked.” Preacher chuckled. The big bastard rose from his seat, walked the length of the table to Texas and threw an arm around his shoulders. “We’re asking you to prom, now you say yes.”

The way Preacher hugged anyone, he could break bones, but Texas didn’t even flinch. Butcher half-smiled watching the realization cross over his face.

It was the right thing to do.

They’d all unanimously voted on it, including Lawless from his prison cell.

It didn’t change what happened. Lessons were learned all around and every man there knew that shit would never happen again.

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