Page 1 of Domino
Chapter One
Domino
Sitting on the top of the picnic table, I look around the yard of the clubhouse. My eye falls on the embossed Dark Pharaohs logo—the old Egyptian god Anubis with a half-helmet fitted with his tall jackal ears, a long snout, and bandoliers of bullets crisscrossing his chest—emblazoned on the inside of the gate.
The wind stirs the tops of the trees that sit just beyond the wall surrounding the compound. The salty scent of the ocean blends with the musky, earthy scent of the forest around us, creating a heady aroma you’re never going to get in one of those fancy twenty-dollar candles. It’s calming. Soothing.
It’s something I took for granted when I was younger, and it was only when I was overseas in the shit that I think I truly came to appreciate and miss it. But I guess that’s the way of things. We never truly appreciate those things we have until we don’t have them anymore.
“What are you doin’ out here?” Derek Moore asks as he sits down beside me.
“Waitin’,” I say and glance at my watch. “They’ve been in there for more than an hour.”
He shrugs. “They’re probably leavin’ you to twist out here just to fuck with you. You know how it goes, man.”
A wry smile touches my lips. “Yeah. I know. Still can’t help but feel nervous, though.”
“I hear you. But it’s not like the vote’s not goin’ to go your way.”
I shrug. “You never know.”
“I never take anything for granted, dude.”
“Probably wise in most cases. This one, though? Give me a break, man.” He laughs and waves me off.
Derek and I became prospects around the same time, and he’s probably the closest friend I’ve got in the MC. He’s a couple of years older than my twenty-six years on the planet but somehow looks ten years younger. Like most of us, he’s a veteran, but unlike most of us, he didn’t see any combat. It’s the lack of experience I envy about him.
He’s a slender guy, though he’s fit. His muscle is lean, and he looks more like a swimmer or maybe a runner. He’s got wavy black hair that’s slicked back and looks artfully tousled and penetrating hazel eyes. Derek’s got the sort of high cheeks bones women kill for and a chiseled face covered with a scruff that’s stylish these days. There’s a definite James Dean,Rebel Without a Cause, kind of vibe about the guy.
Maybe because he didn’t see combat when he was over in the shit, and he doesn’t necessarily have that hard, angry edge that seems to be a requirement among the guys. But I know he can be intense and can handle his business when push comes to shove. I’ve often wondered how he ended up rollin’ with this crew. He’s usually pretty vague about his reasons for signing on. But then, the MC calls to different people for different reasons, I suppose.
“When’s your vote comin’?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I dunno, man. You know how these things go. Could be another six months.”
“I doubt it’ll be that long.”
“As you like to say, you never know.”
I laugh as I pull a cigarette out and light it, drawing in a deep breath. As I exhale, I watch the plume of smoke drift away on the breeze, wondering for the thousandth time what’s taking them so long. I like to believe that I’ve proven myself to them. That I’ve proven not just my loyalty, but after the recent shootout at the lodge with the cartel men, my value to the club as well.
Just then, the sound of rumbling engines fills the air and bikes start flowing through the gates. Seeing the rest of our MC roll in ratchets up my tension a hundredfold. If the rest of the club’s been called in, the decision’s obviously been made. Now, it’s just a matter of hearing what they’ve decided.
As if thinking about them again summons a response, the door to the clubhouse opens, and Doc, the club VP, steps out onto the porch. He gives me a nod and then disappears back into the clubhouse.
“Looks like it’s time,” Derek says.
“Looks like it.”
He gives me a handshake and a pat on the back. “Good luck, brother.”
“Thanks, man.”
I start to walk off, but his voice stops me, and I turn around.
“All I can say is that when you get your patch, you’d best not order me to wash your bike like I’m some damn prospect.”
I cock my head at him and flash him a mischievous grin. “But isn’t that what you are?”
