Page 15 of Friar
The hallway was dimly lit, the overhead fixtures casting more shadows than light.Motorcycle memorabilia lined the walls -- vintage signs for oil companies, framed photographs of legendary bikes, license plates from across the country nailed directly into the wood.The air smelled of leather, cigarette smoke, and the faint lingering scent of whatever cleaner our Prospect used on the floors.Home, for all intents and purposes.A home I was risking by harboring a pregnant church girl without clearing it first.
I paused outside Beast’s door.The heavy oak had seen better days, scarred from years of fists pounding on it when tempers ran high.I took a deep breath, steadying myself before raising my hand and knocking three times.Firm, but not aggressive.Respectful.
“Come in,” Beast called, his voice muffled through the thick wood.
I twisted the handle and stepped inside.Beast’s office was a museum of club history.Every President left his mark, but Beast had been at the helm longer than most.Framed photographs covered one wall -- members past and present, some faded with age, others newer and sharper.A glass display case held odd trinkets and trophies, including what looked like a polished ferret skull -- a nod to the pets he kept at home.Leather-bound ledgers filled a bookshelf, recording decades of club business in handwriting that changed every few years as secretaries came and went.
Beast himself sat behind a massive desk, the dark wood scarred and stained from cigarette burns and spilled drinks.He was a big man, not just in physical size but in presence.His cut fit him like a second skin, the President patch prominent on his chest.His gaze fixed on me as I entered, giving nothing away.
“Friar,” he said, his tone neutral.“Sit.”
I sank into the chair across from him, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth had become.“Thanks for seeing me,” I said, knowing the words sounded too formal, too stiff.
Beast leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raised slightly.“Nugget says you haven’t been around much the past couple days.Said you missed your shift at the garage yesterday.”He didn’t phrase it as a question, but the demand for explanation was clear.
“That’s why I’m here,” I said, leaning forward and resting my forearms on my knees.“Got a situation I need to bring to you.Club business, sort of.”
“Sort of?”The eyebrow inched higher.
I ran a hand through my hair, buying time to organize my thoughts.“Remember that party about ten weeks back?The one where that preacher’s niece showed up?”
Beast’s expression shifted slightly, the faintest hint of wariness crossing his features.“Church girl.Blonde.Looked like she’d never seen the inside of a bar before.”
“That’s her.”I nodded, not surprised he remembered.Beast didn’t miss much.“Her name’s Cheri.She showed up at the clubhouse two days ago, looking for me.She’s pregnant.”
The words hung in the air between us.Beast’s face remained impassive, but his fingers began drumming slowly on the desk -- a telltale sign he was processing something significant.
“And you think it’s yours?”he asked finally.
“Could be.Could also be Nugget’s or Nigel’s.”I held his gaze, refusing to look away despite the discomfort crawling up my spine.“She was with all three of us that night.Doesn’t remember enough to know for sure who the father is.For that matter, I don’t think any of us do either.We were all drunk off our asses.”
Beast’s drumming stopped.“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.“And she came to you specifically?”
“Said she didn’t know where else to go.Her uncle and aunt -- religious types -- threw her out when they found out.Gave her an hour to pack her shit and leave.”The memory of her tear-streaked face in the parking lot made anger flare in my chest again.“She had nowhere to go.I took her to my place for now.”
“Without clearing it with me first.”It wasn’t a question.
“She needed help right then.Didn’t seem like the kind of thing that could wait for a vote.”I kept my voice even, respectful but not apologetic.“She was throwing up in the parking lot, Beast.Looking like she might pass out any second.”
Beast studied me for a long moment, his eyes revealing nothing.Yeah, he was likely pissed off I’d waited so long, but I’d honestly been dreading this conversation.I’d also been worried about Cheri.Then he pushed back from his desk and stood, his chair scraping against the wooden floor.He moved to the window that overlooked the back of our property, hands clasped behind his back.
“This is a clusterfuck, Friar,” he said finally.“Three brothers potentially involved, one of them a Prospect who hasn’t even earned his patch yet.A pregnant civilian with no connections except a one-night stand.Religious family that’s probably already spreading the word about the evil bikers who corrupted their precious niece.”He turned to face me.“You see the complications here?”
“I do.”I met his gaze steadily.“But I couldn’t just leave her there.”
Beast paced the length of his office, his leather cut creaking with each movement.The sound filled the silence as I waited for his verdict.When he spoke again, his voice was measured, calculated.
“Two weeks,” he declared, stopping in the middle of the room.“You’ve got two weeks to decide if you’re claiming her and the baby.If not, she’s gone -- unless Nugget or Nigel step up.”
“Two weeks isn’t much time,” I said, straightening in my chair.
“It’s all you get.”Beast’s tone brooked no argument.“The longer she stays, the more complicated it gets.The old ladies are already going to have opinions.You think they’re going to welcome some church girl who got knocked up at a party?Some may see her as making a careless mistake.But there are people here who might think she’s no better than the club whores.”
The description made me bristle, though I couldn’t argue with its accuracy from their perspective.“She’s not like that.She’s --”
“What?Special?”Beast cut me off.“Don’t tell me you’ve already developed feelings for this girl, Friar.That would be a complication we don’t need.”
I fell silent, not sure how to answer without digging myself deeper.
