Page 13 of Gotta Dig Deep
“Yo.” The loud shout could only be one person and Horse was already grinning as he turned to the door. Blackie and Durango stood just inside, Oaky and Duane fanning to either side. “Come play some pool.”
“Can’t.” Horse shouted over the pounding music, shook his head, and pointed at the floor where he stood. “On the clock tonight.”
“Dale boy.” Blackie turned and reached behind him, pulling the man into view. “Stand where Horse is and if you see trouble, come get him.”
Without a word, his gaze only turning to a glare once Blackie could no longer see his face, Dale stalked to where Horse typically planted himself and took up station beside him.
“Now you can,” Blackie grinned.
Horse had learned to ignore Dale’s simmering anger. He treated the man with respect, never gave anything that could be construed as an order or even a suggestion, and at bedtime ensured that his door was always locked. Things in that regard would change tonight, one way or the other.
“Thanks,” he said now, as if the man had a choice in the matter. Then he followed the rest of Blackie’s men back to the pool table area.
Through the months, he’d learned that the Longview chapter was the original, reverently called Mother by members. Blackie had two additional chapters, one in southern Oklahoma, and the other right on the Texas/Louisiana state lines. Members from those chapters had rotated in and out of the clubhouse, most of them staring at Horse as if he were an oddity when they found he had a room. That had continued to be a sore topic for Dale, and Horse had overheard Blackie refusing to explain to more than just Dale about why he had the outsider not just under their roof, but on the second floor as if he wore the FRMC patch.
And that line of thought brought him full circle back to the question he planned on asking Blackie.
On cue, his palms started to sweat.
It wasn’t that he thought Blackie would outright turn down his request. It was the idea of being on a rung below Dale that bothered him. Or so he’d attempted to convince himself.
Mostly it was the idea that Blackie could shut him down and take away the sense of true brotherhood he was building with the members. With a word, it could be ripped away. It was a trust and faith unlike anything he’d experienced before, and Horse couldn’t imagine his life without the FRMC at the center. He was willing to do anything for them, and believed down to his core that they’d do the same.
Well, except for Dale.
“Hey, Blackie,” he began, but someone else called the man’s name, pulling him to the other side of the bar. Rethinking his process on the fly, Horse turned to the men arguing over the pool sticks. “Hey, Duane.” A smiling face swung his way. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Ya just did” came the grinning response and Horse groaned at the weak joke.
“Seriously.” At his grumbling complaint, Duane made a show of wiping the smile from his face with one palm, flinging nothing to the ground as if it were a booger on his fingers. “God bless, do you ever stop joking around?”
“I’m just foolin’ with ya. Whadda need, Horse?” Turned so his shoulders squared to where Horse stood, the man looked as if he were willing to jump any direction at Horse’s request.
God bless, I’m humbled by these men.
Shoving his thoughts aside, he asked, “What’s the process for a man joining the FRMC?”
“Any man, or a man like you?” All humor fled, with a serious expression on his face Duane cut straight to the heart of Horse’s question.
Wiping damp palms against the outside of his thighs, Horse’s silent nod was all the response he could muster. It didn’t matter, because at the slight movement, Duane was again grinning.
“I’ll be back in a minute. This is above my pay grade, so I’m gonna let Blackie answer you.”
And with that unhelpful reply, Duane turned and said something quietly to Oaky who immediately cut a raised-eyebrow glance at Horse, then Duane left out the back door of the bar.
So much for getting answers tonight.
“What’s this I hear about you finally takin’ that leap of faith I’ve been waitin’ on?” A few seconds later, Blackie’s voice came from directly behind Horse, and he whirled to face his friend. Nothing in Blackie’s expression gave any indication of the thoughts behind his question, and Horse’s gut tightened, making it hard to take in a full breath.
Their encounter was pulling attention throughout the bar and Horse watched as various FRMC members began drifting in their direction.Of course I had to pick tonight.All chapters were represented in the crowd, along with members from a number of support clubs standing alongside the men. The mix of faces he knew and so many he didn’t held Horse’s voice captive. Sweat prickled along the back of his neck and across his shoulders.
The front door opened and shut and Horse saw Duane weaving through the patrons scattered in groups at tables and in standing clusters. The few people who weren’t already looking to where Blackie and Horse stood took note of Duane’s passage, their heads turning to follow him.
Stopping directly behind Blackie, Duane offered Horse a serious smile over Blackie’s shoulder, but didn’t speak.
“Yeah. So, I was wondering what it took for the club to accept a new member.” Gaze flicking between the two men facing him, Horse corrected himself. “Prospect, I mean. To take on a new prospect.” Head turning side to side to take in the entirety of the crowd, Horse grimaced at being the center of attention. “Didn’t mean it to be a spectacle.”
“I did.” Blackie’s flat statement rang through the room. “My guys, FRMC, come and witness unless you’ve been assigned elsewhere.” He turned and patted the air with one hand. “Actually, let’s take this outside. Prospects stay in the bar.” Gesturing to the counter, he nodded at Oaky. “Grab a couple of cases, bring them with. We’ll hit the yard behind the clubhouse.”
