Page 170 of Misrule
“I love her,” Knox repeated, just as he heard Roxanne’s joyous laughter rose above every other sound in the room. Inspiration struck again. “Suppose I become one of you?”
“A roughneck?” Mortician asked with an amused grin.
“Is that what club members are called?”
Mortician laughed. “No, fool. It’s up to you to find out what the fuck that is. So you want to become a Dweller?” he finished with skepticism.
He didn’t ride a bike. He didn’t have tattoos. He didn’t…No!Roxanne loved these people. “Yes,” he said with certainty.
“As initiation, you have to bury a motherfucker who a club enemy.”
Did Kendall count? Probably not. Knox knew better than to ask the question.
“You willing to do that?” Mortician pressed. “Kill someone?”
Was he? Did winning Roxanne back mean setting aside his principles and values? Would she really expect that of him?
“You not,” Mortician went on.
“I don’t kill in cold blood. I don’t think Roxanne would expect that of me.”
“It wouldn’t be in cold blood,” Mortician argued. “It would be because of a crime against the club. Motherfuckers in the game know the rules.”
“You live by the sword, you die by the sword.”
“Something like that,” Mortician agreed.
“Couldn’t I do something else as initiation? The prospective arms deal…what ever came of that, by the way?”
“Initiation set, Knox. We not changing it to fit your sensibilities. And that deal with the guns? Forget your involvement. Prez giving you your cut if the deal go through.”
“It was a viable contact?” Knox asked, satisfied. Surely, that would gain him some points.
“I’m not telling you nothing about it. One thing you got to know is collateral damage fuck things up when you least expect it.”
“I don’t…how would innocent people die? This is just a simple gun deal.”
“Nothing ever simple in our world,” Mortician countered. “Roxanne your collateral damage if you involved in the club or any deals. Not only her, but your parents. Grant. Even your ex-wife.”
Startled at the revelation, Knox widened his eyes.
“All you got to do is fuck up or trust the wrong motherfucker or get on some motherfucker bad side, be it friend or foe. You willing to risk everybody you ever been close to? Not only for knowledge about those guns, but to get into the club.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Knox insisted. “It’s about loyalty and trustworthiness. I know the meaning of brotherhood. I practiced it—”
“On the wrong fucking side,” Mortician snapped.
“Mortician, please—”
“Do you even know how to fucking ride?”
“Cam does,” Knox answered quickly. “He can teach me. I can purchase a bike today and…and…and, another way I can be like you is to get a tattoo. I can get a skull on the back of my hand.”
Sighing, Mortician stood. “I’m willing to teach you to ride, Knox. But don’t get no perfunctory-ass, condescending goddamn ink that would be just the right size for CJ. You want to get tatted, do it fucking right or don’t do it at all.”
“Okay.”
“Think about that long and hard,” Mortician said, standing. “If you want ink, we’ll take you to Bunny brother. As for the riding, your lessons start soon. One last thing, Knox. You can’t let your fucking guard down in a place filled with fucking cameras. Feel me?”
