“I’m out,” I rasp.
“Vote against Jack?” Bas questions. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s time you tell them why we’re here, Wolf,” I tell him.
“Wolf, what the fuck is going on?” Riggs asks agitatedly.
Clearing his throat, Wolf shoves the mallet away from him and straightens his shoulders.
Unlike me, the truth won’t set him free. Wolf’s truth will marry him to a position he never wanted.
“Years ago, after Jack was first diagnosed and Cain passed the gavel to him, he made Pipe and I swear to intervene if his mind ever made him a liability to the club. I don’t have to tell any of you, Jack’s been struggling since this mess with Yankovich imploded. You all got eyes. You watched him kill that paramedic and you all know what happened with the partner. This shit with the cartel was the icing on the cake and when I found out about his plan, I went to him and tried to talk him out of it. He was having a breakdown and Reina wouldn’t let see him. Instead, she begged me to relieve him of his duties to the club. She knows he’s losing his grip on his sanity and before she’s forced to institutionalize the man she loves, she wants to spend as much time with him and their son as she can.”
Hearing Reina went to Wolf before she went to me only solidifies my decision.
“Institutionalize?” Linc questions. “Is that really what it will come down to?”
“Yes,” I say grimly. “He’s lucid now but refusing to take his medication. The longer he goes unmedicated, the deeper he’ll fall into the darkness. Eventually, he will be considered a danger to himself and others. There won’t be any reining him in, he’ll be gone. A shell of a man with no capacity to think for himself and Reina shouldn’t have to see that. Neither should Danny and I sure as fuck don’t want Lacey to think she’s looking in the mirror.”
“While you were all locked up, I was allowed to visit with Jack,” Wolf says. “He ordered us here.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bas mutters. “Well, where is he? I mean, we’re all here and he’s not.”
“Jack isn’t coming,” Wolf grunts.
“Why the hell not?” Riggs shouts.
“Because we’re all here to vote and he can’t be present for it.”
“So, what you’re saying is we are here to fucking impeach the Bulldog?” Riggs questions, pointing a finger towards me. “Our VP just fucking stepped down.”
“Then I guess we’re voting on a lot more than removing Jack from the chair,” Pipe says, turning to Wolf. “Do it, Wolf,” he growls.
Clearly uncomfortable, Wolf looks to me for approval.
“Just because I can’t do it doesn’t mean it doesn’t have to be done. Take the vote, Wolf,” I say gruffly.
Lifting the mallet, he draws in a deep breath.
“All those in favor of removing Jack Parrish as the president of the Satan’s Knights, say yes,” he says hoarsely.
“Yes,” Bas says.
“Is that a yes for Needles too?”
He jerks his head.
“Need the word, brother.”
“Yes.”
Wolf turns to Riggs and we all watch him remove his sunglasses. Crushing them in his fist, he replies.
“For Reina, I say yes and that’s a yes for Cobra too.”
Linc agrees for him and Deuce before he turns to Pipe. He doesn’t get a chance to give his vote as the door opens behind him and Jack enters the room.
“There’s been a change in plans,” he announces, fixing me with a glare.
Shit.
So much for the truth setting me free.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Blackie
I expected him to look frail and out of sorts like Lacey described him a couple of weeks ago, but Jack doesn’t look the slightest bit weak. In fact, the bastard looks better than anyone sitting at the table. Better than me that’s for sure.
Passing everyone, he takes his seat beside me and glances at the patch resting on the table. His eyes slice to me and suddenly, I can’t bring myself to look at him. At the risk of sounding like a total pussy, the relationship between us goes deeper than brotherhood. We may have started off as two friends destined to be criminals and through the years, we may have been driven by an insatiable hunger for power, but that changed once I fell for Lacey. Now, Jack’s my father-in-law before anything else. Him, Reina, Lacey and even Danny—they’re the only family I got. How am I supposed to look him in the eye after all the damage I’ve caused?
“Why is your patch on the table?” he questions.
Lifting my eyes, I notice his patch is missing too.
“Why is yours not on your kutte?” I volley with a well-rehearsed bite to my tone.
Appreciating the familiarity of our easy banter he tips his chin before glancing around the table. With every beat of silence that passes, the tension thickens in the room. As curious as we all are, none of us are willing to break the peace, fearing whatever he says will change our lives.
Leaning forward, I press my elbows to the table and stare at him expectantly.
“I’m stepping down as president,” he declares all too calmly. “I’m taking a deal and confessing to murdering the paramedic in exchange for full immunity for the club.”
Figuring there’s gotta be more to his confession, I wait for him to look at me, for his dark eyes to give me a clue as to what’s really going on here. Jack doesn’t give up. He doesn’t surrender to anyone. Not his fucking mind and sure as hell, not the law. There’s gotta be a plan…there’s always a plan.
“You can’t do that,” Wolf shouts. “I won’t fucking let you do that, Parrish.”
“It’s not your call to make,” Jack replies, leaning back in his chair.
He’s so fucking calm it’s scary.
“We can fight the gun charges,” Pipe asserts.
“You can’t fight murder,” he argues, finally looking at me.
Our eyes lock and I realize there is no greater plan. Jack isn’t going to pull me aside and fill me in on some elaborate scheme only privy to us. He’s riding solo on this one.
“And you’re not going away. Your place is here. Not with the club but with my daughter.”
He’s also not giving up.
No, the bastard is sacrificing himself to protect me.
Defeat, guilt, and shame force me to bow my head. My hair falls in front of my face, shielding my eyes and for that, I’m grateful because suddenly, I can’t control my emotions. Tears fill my eyes and my shoulders shake as I try my damnedest to hold them from spilling.
“Look at me,” Jack demands in a low tone and I force my eyes to his. I wonder if he sees my failures. If he recognizes my pain. Does he look at me and see regret? Does he hate me for what I’ve done or is he too mad at himself for giving me permission to love his daughter?
“Take care of her,” he says hoarsely, answering my questions. “Take care of the baby.”
The answers to my questions are reflected in his eyes. They’re in his words. If given the chance, Jack would do everything the same. He’d give me Lacey’s hand and trust me to take care of her. To love and cherish her. I don’t know if that makes him a fool or the greatest man I’ll ever know.