Page 1 of Wild Card
ONE
Ash
“You look as happy to be here as I am to see ya.” Byron sniggers as I drop my duffel bag to the floor and take a seat at the table opposite him.
“I’m following Jameson’s orders.” I shrug, taking a look around the old, run-down bar where he insisted we meet.
“Unlike you to follow orders.” His forehead furrows.
“Yeah, well, I’m here, ain’t I?” I sigh impatiently as I slouch back in the chair. “Why are wehereand not the clubhouse?” I ask, taking out my smokes and balancing one between my lips.
“Thought you might wanna get yourself settled before you join us, and I wanted a quiet word.”
“Hold up, what are you talkin’ about, settled?” I snap my Zippo back shut and sit up a little straighter.
“Earl’s been kind enough to offer you a room upstairs. I said you'd help out around here to show your appreciation.” I can tell from the grin he’s making that he’s getting off on this shit.
“Byron, I didn’t come here to be a fuckin’ busboy.”
“Earl knows club business has to take priority, I just thought you’d wanna show some gratitude to the old man. He and ya dad were close,” he reminds me.
“You really expect me to stay here?” I look at the man as if he’s lost a fuckin’ screw.
“You got somewhere better to stay?” He laughs.
“I just figured I’d be staying at the clubhouse.”
“Yeah, well, you figured wrong. The clubhouse doesn't have the capacity right now. But we’re working on it.”
“Working on it?” I repeat his words back at him and laugh, myself. “This really fuckin’ sucks.”
“No one forced ya to be here, Wild Card.” Byron’s face turns stern.
“Jameson didn’t make it sound that way to me.” I swear, the anger in his voice made the whole room shake when he summoned me. Apparently, our leader ain’t been happy with the way I’ve been conducting myself. He figured somewhere where my father used to be president would do me some good. I interpreted it as these guys are in the shit and need someone to pull 'em outta it.
“I’ve heard about your antics. Your attitude stinks, and the only reason you're still wearin’ that cut is because Jameson respected your father.”
“Did you bring me here to offend me before I help you solve your problem, or is this just part of the welcome package?”
“I brought you here to warn ya. This town, and the people in it, mean something to the club. We protect it. We nurture it, and we sure as fuck don’t shit on our own doorstep. While you're here, I expect you to show some respect and play by the rules.”
“Tell me, Prez, if everything's so fuckin’ peachy, why the fuck am I here?” I know that I ain’t the only nomad Jameson’s called in to help out. Menace and Zander are both on route.
“I never said things were fuckin’ peachy…and you watch your tone when you speak with me, boy,” he warns, tensing his jaw. “As you will have heard, we’ve lost some members recently.” The charter president drops his head like he’s battling with his pride. “Now this drug situation’s gettin’ out of control. Jameson and I both agree that some young blood will strengthen the pack.” I can see it hurts the man to admit that he needs help. Of all the Royal Bastard charters, Cody’s always been the quietest. No trouble ever came outta this little town…Until now.
“How bad is it?” I narrow my eyes.
“I don’t know where this shit is coming from, so I don’t know how to stop it.” Byron rests back in his chair after lighting a smoke himself. “All I know is that I got teenagers fuckin’ dying and grieving parents lookin’ to me to fix it.” Suddenly, I see how tired the man looks. “You may not remember it that way, but this is a good town, Ash. It’s full of good people. It’s got heart, it’s got unity, and this infestation is gonna tear all that apart if I can’t get it under control.” I see how much this town means to him when his eyes start welling up.
“Holy hell, I’m sorry.” The bar door crashes open, and she enters the room like a hurricane.
“This time I swear it wasn’t my fault.” I watch the girl tie her long curly hair up on top of her head as she rushes behind the bar and starts tying an apron around her waist. “Mrs. Fuller’s cockapoo slipped its leash and ran off, you know how that poor woman’s back is. She can barely stand, let alone go hunting for a dog. I keep telling her she needs to book an appointment with Clayton, but you know how stubborn she can be. I had to help her look for him, the poor thing’s getting old and has cataracts. That’s the dog, not Mrs. Fuller.” She eventually stops to take a breath. “Who knows where the poor thing might have ended up?” She smiles so sweetly at Earl when she’s done.
“Ash…ASH!” Byron yelling my name pulls all my attention back to him.
“Are you even listening to what I’m telling ya?” he questions me.
“Sure. Drug problem, heart, and unity. I hear ya.” I turn my head back toward her because I ain’t ever seen a girl as pretty as she is before. She ain’t all painted up and pushed together like the club whores I’m used to seeing. In fact, I don’t think she’s wearing any makeup at all, and when she picks up a pad, slides a pencil behind her ear, and starts walking toward our table, my mouth instantly goes dry.
