Page 62 of Has-Been
“They don’t have to accept me though, because I’m family, right? And Has is definitely family. He’s a brother, so they should back him no matter what.”
“There are those who’ll side with their VP just to prove their loyalty to the club, but Has-Been is well loved, and well respected here. I can’t see this going any other way than in your favour in the end.”
I really hoped they were right, because if it didn’t go that way, I had to hope he’d be willing to leave the club to be with me. The one thing I knew was that I didn’t want to be away from him. Ever.
Thirty-Eight
ReachercalledChurchassoon as we were back, and there were a lot of confused faces sitting around that big table. It was time to come clean, but while he did, he’d asked me, Ryder, and Ice to keep our eyes moving, and watch people’s reactions. If the saboteur was in the room, the serial killer, surely he’d react differently to everyone else, right?
Reacher sighed heavily and stood up, gesturing around the room.
“Look at your brothers, look at the fucking shitstorm we’re dealing with right now. Four of your brothers were hurt today, because some fucker tampered with their motorbikes. Someone is messing with this club, and I won’t stand for it. If one of you assholes sitting around this table is the fucker responsible for this, then man the hell up and admit it. You got a problem with this club, then you fucking leave. You don’t mess with another man’s bike. You don’t risk the lives of your fucking brothers!”
He was yelling by the time he’d finished, and he kicked his chair across the room, before he slammed his palms on the table, and shared that glare with every last one of us. Hell, even I felt guilty under that deadly stare, and I knew I was innocent.
“Pres… you’re saying someone deliberately caused their accidents?” Rocket didn’t look as cowed as even I felt right now, but he looked pissed as hell.
“Someone seriously fucked with their bikes?”
“Nah, we’re all just real fucking clumsy on the same day!”Micro muttered, and Reacher let out a low growl, and nodded at Stitch, who leaned forward to look at everyone.
“Someone here tried to kill our brothers. We know it was someone in this room, because nobody else has access to our fucking rides. This happened here, in the fucking clubhouse parking area. We’re scanning camera footage, and we’ll figure this out, and if we have to come to whoever did this, rather than them owning up, you better believe you’re gonna see the fucking basement, and then nothing else, ever again.”
Wow. Those words were particularly chilling, because Stitch turned his angry eyes on me as he finished speaking. Yeah, I was definitely not out of the woods yet. He still wanted to kill me, and I half agreed with him, if I’m honest. Elise gave me her virginity, and I was still pretty sure I would never be worthy of that.
“So, wait a minute… is this the first incident, or is there some more shit you’re not telling us? I nearly lost my fucking arm today, and I want answers.” Micro slammed his other fist down on the table, and drew everyone’s attention. His shoulder had been patched up and bandaged by the ambulance crew, but I had no idea what the doctors had said, once they’d assessed him. Was it damaged badly enough to stop him riding again? Thank god we no longer had a ‘no ride, no club’ rule.
I realised that the pain in my ass and back was being made worse by the chair, and shoved it back as I stood up. Suddenly the room was silent and everyone was staring intensely at me. That was way too much scrutiny for my liking, so I raised my hands. Shit, what if they thought I was owning up or something? What a dumb time to fucking move, right?
“Sorry, not making a point or anything. I just can’t stay sitting right now. I’m in too much pain.” I moved around the back of the chair and leaned on it, trying to ease the throbbing at the base of my spine.
“Why aren’t you making a fucking point though? You came off, just like I did, just like Torch and Ryder, but somehow you’re okay with it? What’s going on with you, man? What was that shit about, back at the hospital?” Micro was standing now and his eyes were mean and angry, as he glared at me. I felt almost like he was accusing me of something, but I’d rather that than any of us focusing on my pathetic little meltdown earlier.
“Wait, what? You think I’m not pissed as hell? This club is my fucking home. The men around this table are my family. The people I’d fucking die for. Am I pissed that my bike is in bits right now? Yeah, and I’m pissed as fuck that some of us are injured, because of some asshole messing with this club, and my fucking family. You wanna point the finger, why don’t you take a look in the fucking mirror, huh? Where were you, eh? When we rushed after you to get to Torch in the hospital, how come you took so long? You left before us. You should have been there at least five minutes ahead of us, but instead you took long enough that he was discharged.”
Torch was frowning as he looked from me to Micro and back.
“What’s this? Come on, guys. This is exactly what we don’t need right now. Accusing each other is just giving whoever did this exactly what they want. Right, Pres?”
Reacher groaned, dropping back into his chair and running both hands through his hair.
“I have no idea what they fucking want, but as of right now, we’re putting a few things in place to keep us all safe. First of all, we’re on lockdown. Nobody fucking leaves without a good reason, and mine or Stitch’s approval. Secondly, we’re putting a team on watch outside, so no more damage comes to our bikes. As it is, we’ve got to scrutinise every fucking inch of our bikes to make sure no others are affected, and that’s a team job too. We’re also gonna be talking to each of you privately, so if anyone has a beef, that’s your time to bring it up. I don’t want to lose a single person from this club for any reason, but if someone’s unhappy here, either bring it up with me and Stitch, or leave. That’s your right. This isn’t one of those clubs where you can only leave in a fucking body bag.”
He nodded at Ice, who cleared his throat and spoke up next.
“I’m running extensive background checks on everyone here, and everyone you’ve all ever fucking met. For some of you, the last time I did this was when you joined us, and it was years ago. I hate digging into your private shit like this, but we need to find the culprit before someone gets killed. I’m also going to be adding some new security cameras around the place, and tracking more activity around the clubhouse. This is all to keep you guys protected.”
A few people protested at the intrusion into their privacy, but Reacher silenced them with a glare. Stitch groaned then, and dragged a hand through his hair as he stood up, going over to the window and staring outside.
“Guys, this is also the worst timing ever, but when I agreed to it, none of this shit had happened. We’ve got a nomad joining us for a few weeks, maybe longer. He’s looking for a permanent club, and hell… I thought we were the best damn club there was. I can’t turn him away now, but we’ll brief him on the lockdown and potential threats when he gets here. Jesus, he might just turn and leave again anyway.”
The room fell deadly silent, and even the few protesters had died down as he finished what he was saying. His words settled around us. We were the best damn fucking club, so why the hell was someone in this room trying to destroy our home? Our family?
“Guy goes by the road name ‘Grease’, and I think he’d be a good fit for the club.” There was more silence, while I stewed on my thoughts, and then I caught Ice’s glare.Oh shit, that’s my cue.
“Hang on. Did you say Grease? I knew a nomad called Grease. Italian looking guy, that him?”
Stitch turned and frowned at me, like I’d said something wrong, but then, that could just have been his hate continuing to show. I missed our previous relationship, missed him being a brother I could shoot the shit with.
