Priest wants to put on a show to announce Z’s new role. Although I already met with Rock, Z, Wrath, and Murphy earlier, I stop by Rock’s room before heading to the chapel.
“Anything you want me to do at the meeting?” I ask, dropping into a chair at the small table in the corner.
“Watch what you say before we go in,” Rock warns me. “I don’t know if everyone’s aware Z’s staying on as president. Let it come from Priest.”
“Got it. Anything else?”
Rock raises an eyebrow. “What brought on this bout of helpfulness?”
“Yeah, yeah.” I blow out an annoyed breath. “I’m over it. I understand why you want Murphy and me to stick around. For fuck’s sake, I said we’d go look at a house to rent. What more do you want from me?”
“I want you to be careful. We still don’t know who shot Sway. I’m not happy about any of you being down here right now,” he rasps.
The heaviness in his voice prompts me to set aside my feelings and study Rock closer. Circles ring his eyes, the kind that hint he was up all night worrying, not enjoying other nocturnal activities.
“I’ll be on alert,” I promise.
“Blend in as much as you can while you’re here,” he suggests. “Get to know some of the younger brothers better. See where their heads are at. Are they loyal to Shadow? Will they try to undermine Z?”
“Doubt anyone will come out and say that.”
He cocks his head. “No shit, knucklehead.” He runs his fingers over his lips in a zip-it gesture. “Close your mouth and open your ears. Use your gut feeling to guide you. I trust your opinion.”
Pride sputters through me and I sit up straighter, determined not to let him down. “I’ll be listening.”
“Good.” He stands and slaps my shoulder. “Now, get out of my room.”
Laughing, I step into the hallway and send Murphy a text.
Me: Meet outside chapel?
Murphy: Already there.
I stalk through the maze of hallways, noting the grungy carpet under my boots. Can’t even tell what color it is anymore. Red? Brown? A far cry from the gleaming hardwood floors of our Upstate clubhouse.
Blake’s waiting at the end of the last hallway that leads into the main room.
He lifts his chin. “What’s up?”
I cast a quick glance around the area. Downstate brothers are clustered by the open chapel doors. Priest and brothers from our Mississippi charter are close to the front office. I glimpse Z’s wide shoulders in that inner circle.
This is really happening.
“I just want to stick together.”
“As if I’d go in there without you.” He slaps my shoulder and steers me toward the chapel doors. Downstate brothers are already filing into the room.
I jerk my head to the right. “Let’s blend in.”
Rock and Wrath end up near the head of the table. I catch Rock’s eye and he nods. Last of all, Priest enters with Z following.
I lean closer to Murphy. “Z looks like he’s being marched to his death,” I say low enough for only him to hear me.
He grunts in response and slides lower in his chair.
“Thank you for having us.” Priest runs his shrewd gaze over every brother seated at the table. “Awful thing when a brother’s almost taken out this way. I know this has been a rough time for everyone.”
Understatement.
Downstate brothers sit forward, hanging on Priest’s every word.
“As you know, our brothers from Upstate have been here offering support and protection. I’ve asked their VP, Zero, to stick around and take over as president until Sway recovers.”
Boom, there it is.
Ripples of conversation reverberate around the room. I study each brother closely, searching for signs of hostility. Smoke—a brother we all have questions about—grumbles and glances down at his lap.
Murphy elbows me and from the corner of my eye, I catch his chin tipping toward the other end of the table. Standing behind Z, Shadow’s watching with a dead-eyed glare.
Well, we knew he was trouble too.
I resume my study of the other brothers. Jigsaw—alert and interested. Rooster, nodding and frowning at the same time. Hustler just looks confused. And after I went over the club’s books this morning, I’m not surprised. Steer’s relaxed against the back of his chair, almost like he’s relieved he wasn’t asked to step from the SAA role into the president’s position.
Now that he’s lobbed the grenade at everyone and given us time to absorb the shock, Priest taps his knuckles against the table to regain our attention. “I hate even saying this, but if at some point it looks like Sway isn’t going to make a full recovery, then we’ll discuss other options.” He glances over and smirks at Rock. “I know Upstate isn’t pleased about losing their VP, so this isn’t a permanent arrangement. Right now,” he adds.
Rock’s expression remains steely and calm, although his eyes narrow slightly. He gives Priest a curt nod but doesn’t respond.
Z flicks his gaze to the ceiling and my chest squeezes. He’s in an awful position.
“Now, even though it’s temporary, we need to make it official,” Priest says, waving his hand at Z for him to stand and approach.
A sick sensation slithers through my stomach. Murphy and I both lean forward.
Priest crooks a finger at Rock, silently asking him to join Z. Blink hands Priest a knife and Priest hands it to Rock.
“Holy shit,” I breathe out.
“You gotta be kidding,” Blake murmurs.
Priest’s message to Rock seems obvious. I call the shots.
Z’s never coming home.
I push the thought away and concentrate on the scene unfolding in front of me, hating every second of it.
Rock doesn’t hesitate. He accepts the knife from Priest without a word. Then neatly slices Z’s VP patch off his cut.
I close my eyes, feeling the imaginary sting of the knife against my own flesh.
This is so wrong.
I was there when Z was given that VP patch. I was still a prospect, so my vote wasn’t counted. But I remember the day well. After all the struggles and hardships our club had gone through, we’d found our way to a true brotherhood. Z’s my brother and one of my best friends. This is excruciating to watch but I sit still because sharing each other’s pain is what brothers do.
Rock hands the patch to Z and says something to him that I can’t hear. Forcing Rock to be the one to take Z’s patch seems like the ultimate fuck you from Priest.
“What the fuck?” Murphy breathes out.
“Congratulations,” Priest announces, as if this is something to celebrate instead of mourn. He slaps a small patch in Z’s hand. Then, to pour salt in our fresh wounds, he hands Z a “Downstate” bottom rocker.
Z stares at his hands for a few seconds.
Everyone in the room stands and claps. Heart pounding, I rise and join them. I catch Wrath’s eye at the other end of the table, and he shakes his head.
The warm welcome from his new charter seems to shake Z out of his shock. His mouth slips into a fake smile. “Thank you for welcoming me with open arms during such an uncertain time. As everyone knows, our two charters go way back, and I’m honored to lead Downstate through this rough patch until Sway recovers.”