A few of the members perched on the stools around the pool table laughed along with Tank. It felt good to be back among his brothers. He hadn’t been by the club on a Saturday night in months, and he missed the place.
The clubhouse wasn’t anything fancy, just four large rooms spread out in a bunker style. Mostly pieced together furniture from yard sales and family heirlooms, and an enormous bar that Raptor’s father had built way back in the day, dominated the central room. The large centerpiece had seen its share of violence, pussy, and beer—not unlike most of his brothers.
As Tank leaned against the bar, he wondered where all the other brothers were, given the big party that was gearing up.
“Where is everyone?” he asked as he brought the beer bottle to his lips.
“They’ll be here. Are you coming to church tomorrow?”
Tank jerked. “Church on a Sunday? What the hell’s going down?”
“You didn’t get the word about church tomorrow?” Maniac asked.
“Nope. I knew nothing about it. I just stopped by to grab a few and see your ugly mug.”
Maniac held up his middle finger, and Chainsaw guffawed loudly.
“And free booze and tits,” Lynch added as he sauntered over, bumping Tank’s fist with his.
Tank narrowed his eyes and went behind the bar made of knotty pine and slabs of stone. “Free booze for sure.” Closing his fingers around his favorite bourbon, he grabbed a chipped coffee mug from under the bar and gave it a quick sniff test—it seemed clean enough.
“Where the hell have you been?” Lynch asked him.
“Nowhere. I’ve just been working my ass off, unlike you lazy sonsofbitches.”
Lynch chuckled. “I live a charmed life.”
“Yeah. I bet fucking Lilly all day isn’t half bad,” Tank retorted.
Chainsaw snubbed out his roach on the linoleum floor. “Speaking of fucking, where are you getting pussy? I haven’t seen you with the club girls in a long time.”
“You got some sexy citizen sucking your balls off?” Lynch grabbed a plastic cup and motioned for Tank to fill it up.
Tank took another drink. “Yep. I got them lining up, bro.”
“I bet you do. Chicks go for the innocent look,” Maniac snorted.
Tank laughed. “Yeah, I’m nothin’ but a regular fuckin’ choirboy.”
Maniac shook his head. “No, dude, I mean it.” He pointed at Tank. “Look at that fancy-ass shirt you’re wearing. Women like shit like that, not” —he pulled at his ripped T-shirt— “this.”
“Maybe if you wore a new one, you’d have better luck.” Tank teased.
Lynch frowned. “Why the fuck are you wearing that shirt?”
“I was on the prowl for citizens.”
Chainsaw’s eyes widened. “Damn.”
Wanting to shut down the questioning, Tank stared at the pool table. “When the fuck is the club gonna get a new one? This one’s ready for the dump.”
Maniac grinned. “Yeah. It got pretty messed up at the last party. It was fuckin’ wild. You missed a great night, bro.”
“The sweet butts were lined up around the block, just to come in and get some biker cock,” Lynch said.
“And coke,” Tank added.
Lynch threw back his drink. “That’s an afterthought.”
Shaking his head, Maniac laughed. “Raptor doesn’t want to use the club funds to buy another one. He says we’ll just trash it like we did all the others.”
Tank shrugged and slugged back a nice size swallow from the cup. The pleasant burn worked its way down his body as he made his way over to an overstuffed armchair in the corner.
“Anyone seen Raptor tonight?”
“Nah, man.” Maniac blew out a long breath, his boots clacking as he walked around the pool table. “So I guess you’re totally clueless about the shit that’s been going down?”
“What shit?”
Lynch shoved one of the stools against the bar. “Fuckin’ bullshit, that’s what. You’ve been away too long, dude.”
Tank’s attention piqued when Maniac stopped playing and leaned his skinny ass against the end of the pool table facing Tank. “What gives? You look like the apocalypse is coming to town.”
Maniac’s lips curled in disgust. “Fuck, man. The VP did us dirty.”
Tank sat up straight. “What the hell?” Any news with Hammer as the headline was bound to be some dirty shit. Their vice president had his hand in all the wrong pots, and their president had been looking the other way for too damn long. “Tell me his number is finally up and we can call him out.”
“Not exactly.” Maniac hesitated, and Chainsaw cracked his knuckles, adjusting himself against the wall with a grunt. “He sold us out to Fitzgerald.”
“Motherfucker.” Tank took a large swallow from his mug, draining it. “Give me all the details. I’m sure this is gonna hurt.”
“We’re back to the protection game after Hammer’s talk with Fitzgerald. The old rules are making a comeback.”
Tank rubbed a hand down his face. “We’re shaking down businesses?”
“Yeah. Just like in the days when Skull ran the club. We’re cleaning out Main Street one shiny cash register at a time. Protection is a hot commodity, and our useless motherfucker of a VP doesn’t give a damn that Raptor turned Fitzgerald down six months ago. So long as the prez remains occupied, Hammer’s calling the shots.”
Tank watched Maniac hit a ball so hard, it bounced off the wall and went spinning in the other direction.
“Aren’t you fucking his daughter?” Lynch asked.
Tank pursed his lips. “More off than on. Besides, Quinn doesn’t know how big a crook her hypocritical dad is.”
“But you are fuckin’ her?” Lynch asked again.
“We haven’t been together in six months. Anyway, that wouldn’t make a difference to me. The club and Raptor come first, hands down.”
Lynch nodded. “We all feel that way. The brotherhood is paramount.”
After a few moments of silence, Tank said, “I told you Hammer was a fuckin’ snake in the grass.”
“You were right. I” —Lynch looked at Chainsaw and Maniac— “we didn’t want to believe you. After you went nomad, things were cool for a while, and then Hammer started doing stupid shit. It was small, and no one thought it was a big deal. But a few months ago, serious shit started going down, telling us that this fucker is hell-bent on staging a coup.” Lynch glanced across the room at a group of members who’d been around since Skull’s days.
“The old guard wants to bring the club back to where it was before Raptor took the helm,” Maniac grunted.
“That’s fucked,” Tank snapped. “The club’s been making more money with Raptor than it ever did under Skull. With all the fuckin’ turf and drug wars, the old club blitzed through a shit ton of money.”
Lynch nodded. “Yeah, I’m with you, but some of the brothers want Hammer in. It’s not helping that Raptor’s ass hasn’t been around for a fuckin’ long time.”
“His kid’s got cancer.” Tank reminded him. “I can’t even imagine what he and his ol’ lady are going through.”