Making the Cut Read Online Free PDF

right . Protect and Serve wasn’t necessarily the motto anymore. Although he didn’t need to know it, the last thing I wanted was a bar full of cops.
    “Fucking bitch,” he grunted as he folded the knife and pushed it into his pocket.
    Fucking bitch who makes a bad-ass Rum and Coke, thank you.
    “Pussies,” he hissed as he walked past the twins.
    Yes!
    Another win for Avery.
    As he grumbled to himself and stepped toward the rear exit, I sighed and released my pistol. I wouldn’t have shot him for being in a bar fight, but the gun gave me a little more courage than normal. I sighed, smiled at the twins, and shrugged my shoulders. As I raised my hand in the air in my own little imaginary victory pose, I swung the bar towel in a circle and shouted a celebration of sorts for having ended the little disagreement without any bloodshed.
    “This round, gentlemen, is on the house!”
    Okay, that’s two Budweiser’s, a Gin and Tonic, and a glass of water.
    Wichita was a far cry from the quiet town of Marietta, Ohio, but overall I loved it. The wilder the better I have always said.
    And, for the most part, I meant it.

 
     
     
     
    AXTON
    I slammed the gavel onto the sound block three times. After dozen or so meetings during the club’s inception which had gotten out of hand, the block had been screwed to the table at the end where my seat was positioned.
    “I’m calling this meeting to order. Mr. Secretary, have you got anything noteworthy?” I asked.
    Fancy flipped through his notepad and traced his finger along the page, “In the last meeting, Kelp made a motion to allow the trade of the old Sporty abandoned years ago in the back lot to the hardware store for Christmas trees, and provide the Christmas trees to the Toys for Tots kids at the ride this fall. It was left that we were unsure as to the value, and whether or not we had legal right to the little Sporty. I checked with the Treasurer, and we had already filed the paperwork for the mechanic’s lien against the Sporty, and it is legally ours to sell or trade. We have the title in the safe. The Treasurer further informed me the value of the bike is roughly $2,200.00. I have my doubts it’ll be worth that much, but $2,200.00 was his response.”
    “Second thing, I can’t read my fuckin’ meeting minutes, and my memory is shit, so who stood opposed to making the Fayetteville ride mandatory?”
    Jeb raised his hand, “I did.”
    “Gotcha. Just needed to make note of it. Hell, I couldn’t read my own writing. That’s all I got,” Fancy sighed.
    “Treasurer, where do we stand?” I asked.
    “About the same as last time, Slice. $7,402.20 in the club checking, $5,405.00 in the club savings, and $112,500.00 give or take in the safe. We have nothing due out at this point in time,” Mike responded.
    “Give or take? What the fuck does that mean? How much is in the fucking safe, Mike?” I asked.
    “Close as I can tell Slice, we got a hundred and twelve grand. It’s all banded in $1,000.00 bundles. Then there’s five hundred loose. So, $112,500.00. But I didn’t take time to count all the money in the bands, but there’s a hundred and twelve of ‘em,” Mike shrugged.
    I nodded my head, “Good enough.”
    During Church, when I spoke, everyone was attentive. Not once could I recall being interrupted or disrespected in any manner. Our meetings were conducted in as professional of a manner as a Motorcycle Club could expect, and how I was personally treated in the meetings was second to none. I had my doubts, however, as to my being able to maintain order while the particular subject up for discussion was being brought to light. I decided to talk fast and pause for comments or remarks after I was finished speaking.
    “Alright, listen up fellas. We got us a little situation. I know I don’t normally get involved in matters like this, but for this one, I’m going to. I had a meeting with Frank, and he’s got a little deal that needs taken care of. I