Page 24 of Savage Devotion
It’s all high-top tables and stools, neon beer signs, and sticky floors. Frankly, it’s on the verge of being a dive bar, but I like the food. My crew works hard to keep it civil during business hours out front. It’s where the locals come—MC or not.
There are also a couple of rooms back there for a few club patches who need to crash or whatever.
Right now, I’m thinking Arabelle could use a little tour of the full establishment and I can introduce her to the room reserved for the prez of the club.
Ash clamps a hand down on my shoulder and I shoot him afuck-offlook.
His shit-eating grin speaks of the years we’ve known each other. Too many to count. He raises both hands. “You wanna go over there and ask her to dance or somthin’? Cuz you might as well be eye fucking her.”
“Fuck you, Ash,” I say with no heat. I can’t be mad at my friend for calling it how he sees it.
“Look, I’m just sayin’ you might not come here but she does. She waitresses here every weekend for extra cash. At least that is what Charli tells me.”
This is news to me. I’ve been so wrapped up in helping the Bratva Savages I’ve let a few details slip by me here at home.
Ash nudges my arm. “Everyone here loves her. You don’t need to watch her every fucking move, man. Don’t believe me? Watch.”He jerks his chin toward the bar top and a few tables positioned close by.
There’s not an empty chair to be seen, and it’s all because of Arabelle. She’s got the local fuckers smitten with her sweet talk and flowy skirts.
I twirl the cold beer in my hand but I can’t bring myself to drink it. I’m too busy watching her work the room with that cherry-red painted smile. My God. She’s got everyone wrapped around her little finger.
And I know the feeling. I’ve been tied up in her for months.
I scoot my full beer away and level my eyes on Ash. “Let’s get to club business. Pull whoever is in-house and meet me in the back. We need to deal with what happened today and talk about this.” I toss a black baggie on the table about the size of a matchbook with a large “E” on the front.
“Shit. Euphoria’s made it to our small parish?”
I nod. “Picked it up off the street today.”
“The Vultures,” Ash states flatly.
Ash signals for the men of our crew to follow. “We have a couple of enforcers, me, you, and I think Jax, one of our patches.”
“Leave the patch out for now. Tell him to keep an eye on Arabelle and his dick in his pants or lose it.”
I push up, turn and leave the chaotic front and head toward the back where I can hear myself think. After years of open road and silence, it’s going to take some time to get used to all the noise pounding my brain.
Stale cigar smoke and old beer are the first thing I smell when I push the back door open and step into a back room used for high-stakes poker nights. It’s not too big, but there’s enough space for club business.
Ash leads the men in and we form a circle around the table.
“Prez, what’s up?” Elias “Beast” Carver—a Savage Reign enforcer and my sergeant-at-arms—straddles a chair and braces his arms over the back. Haze “Cipher” Gravmont, our other enforcer, is hot on his heels with a beer in hand.
I hate formality and all the meeting shit, so I keep everything low-key. My dad was all about rules and treating club meetings like a military unit.
No thanks. I see no need to waste anyone’s time with that level of detail.
“Listen up, men. I know I haven’t been your president long. Two months ain’t shit on the job, but you know me from before our dicks knew how to work. My dad brought most of you on before he got sick, because all our dads rode together. His passing hit us all hard and the club ink on my chest has hardly healed over.”
There are a few gruff “yeahs” and I pause to meet each of their gazes.
Ash looks me dead in the eye. “We trust you, man. Tell us what you want.”
“The Vultures seem to think losing our old president has made us weak.Theirpresident seems to think he can ride through our parish and harass our women. And then there’s this.” I jerk my chin toward Ash and he tosses the black baggie I gave him on the table.
Cipher reaches for the baggie and holds it up. “I’ve seen this around back at the Voodoo lounge. I tossed a rowdy group of college kids out on their asses for popping this shit. They say you can’t overdose on it.”
I grunt. “Bullshit. You come across it again on Savage property let me know.”
