Page 13 of Phantom
They released hands, and Colin’s simply fell to his side. “I appreciate it, but I actually liked building it. You’ve given me an opportunity to do that again.”
A sly smile crossed my dad’s face. “Is that right? Tell ya what. I’ll get the parts, and you can use my tools and garage. I might even join you since I gotta fix Val’s bike, too.”
Colin nodded. “It’d be an honor.”
Taylor looked like a bull about to charge. His eyes were wild, and his nostrils were flaring. “We didn’t discuss any new prospects.”
My dad turned to face Taylor, and subsequently, more of the members. “I do believe the bylaws state that all prospects need the backing of a single officer in order to pledge.” He crossed his arms. “CJ has got two.”
“Two?” Taylor repeated.
“Two. The president and the vice president.”
“You know this guy, Squared?” Avery “Bullseye” Pairings, our treasurer, asked.
“He’s a friend of Val’s from back in the day.” He scoffed. “I didn’t know I had to explain myself so much. Does anyone else have any questions they’d like to ask?” The members and prospects exchanged nervous glances, but no one said anything more. My dad nodded. “Good. Then, members, let’s head back. I wanna get started so that we can make the best use of our day. Prospects, busy yourselves. We’ll be back out soon with a task for you to take on.”
I handed Lockjaw’s leash over to Colin, and he took it with a look of pride. He walked over to a chair at one of the scattered tables and sat down, bringing Lockjaw to sit between his legs. He tapped him on the head a few times, and confident that they’d both be just fine in my absence, I followed my dad around the bar and through the swinging door in the back of the Taphouse.
Past the small kitchen and through a set of double doors was Hoppa Taphouse’s warehouse. All of the non-perishable goods and bar materials were stored back there, and in the very middle was a large, round oak table with enough chairs situated around it for all the officers to sit.
We took our respective seats, and my dad leaned forward and folded his hands across the table. “Well, I’ll cut right to the chase. We all know why we’re here. We need to pick from our prospect pool. I’d really like to do it before MiD, in case the Dogs or anyone else plans an attack there. We need a few grunts to stay back and protect the bar while I meet with the Blazing Rebels and the Raging Vipers. I suppose I’ll start with the obvious. Do any officers have a prospect who they’d like to enter into the pool?”
All eyes turned to me. Despite the scrutiny, I did my best to remain unmoved by their obvious disapproval. “Yes. I’d like to enter CJ into the prospect pool.”
“CJ what?” Bullseye asked.
“Just CJ,” I spat back, and he growled.
“Great. Did he state his intention to join the Steel Knights in full view and audible range of three or more officers?” my dad asked Taylor.
Taylor was quiet for a long time, but eventually grumbled out, “Yes.”
“Then I’m entering a motion to enter CJ into the prospect pool,” my dad said.
Not a single person responded, not that I expected them to. I raised my hand with a scowl. “I second the motion.”
My dad slammed the table. “So moved. CJ will officially join the rank of prospects.” He grabbed a folder from the compartment that he kept under the table for stashing his documents and brought it to rest on top of the table. He flipped it open and started reading over the top page. “What I need from these prospects is strength. Not just physical strength, but the mental strength it takes to stand up to the Dogs or anyone else that may come our way. We’re growing in numbers, just like Hoppa, and people need to know that we intend to stand our ground. I don’t want any flashy business, though. I like my muscle like I like my drinks, neat and dry. I’ve sent a few of the members out to a bar in uncharted territory about an hour away. I’m gonna send the prospects there and have the members pick a fight to see how they react. Whoever keeps a level head, I’m willing to consider for membership. Does anyone have a problem with that?”
No one objected. That was how the Steel Knights like to do things in general, under the radar and without much of a fuss. Apart from a few members who didn’t know how to hold their liquor, the Knights dedicated themselves to being as smooth as steel. You barely knew they were there until they were driving into your gut. I smiled, imagining the ever-stoic Colin. If anyone could master what my dad was looking for in a prospect, it was him.
“Good,” my dad said. “We’re not going to be subjective here. We’re looking for someone who ticks the boxes. I’m expecting straight shooting. The exact same way you were considered.” There were varying affirmations, and my dad smiled. “All right. I’m gonna need someone to go out and view the prospect. I was thinking—”
Before he could get the words all the way out, he was interrupted by a series of bangs and grunts coming from the bar. The Steel Knights owned Hoppa’s Taphouse, and no one should have been in there who wasn’t an officer of the Steel Knights or there for the prospect test. We all sat in silence and listened for a minute. I, in particular, listened for Lockjaw to bark, but he didn’t. Only the continued sounds of grunts and groans, with the occasional dull thud, reached us. My dad stood up, and the officers all followed suit, taking after him as he made his way back through the warehouse and kitchen and through the swinging door into the bar.
I walked in and made my way to a spot where I could see, but the scene that greeted me was confusing. Colin was sitting in the same chair I’d left him in, still absent-mindedly patting Lockjaw’s head. Lockjaw didn’t seem bothered or put out at all, but all three prospects were laid out across the bar, unconscious. Nothing was broken, they didn’t appear to be bleeding, and Colin hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“What the hell happened?” my dad asked.
Colin looked up at him and shrugged. “They said they wanted to fight me. So we fought.”
I watched as a slow smile crept across my dad’s face. “I fucking like this guy.”
He paced around the bar and over to where Colin was sitting. Several expressions crossed his face in rapid succession. We all stood in silence while he stared down at Colin. Colin remained unmoving and unconcerned by my father’s sudden approach. My dad crossed his arms, and the fingers of his left hand dug into the flesh of his right arm, something he typically only did when he was battling with an internal struggle.
“Squared?” Bucky started finally, but my dad held up a hand to silence him.
Finally, my dad sighed and released all of the tension in his shoulders. “This is the answer to our problems,” he muttered quietly.
