and
Gummy knew the truth, and neither would talk, for obvious reasons.
When Gummy left the club to work in town, War encouraged her to go. “You need
to find a place where you feel safe, and this isn’t the spot for you to stay. I’l miss you,
but you have a chance to leave now and still find a good life, and if you ever need me,
you know where to find me.” He’d kissed her on the forehead then dropped her off in
front of the bar with her sack of possessions that she’d salvaged from the blown-over
trailers.
Race was sitting at the table with him on the balcony of the main room of their new
clubhouse. The men had put a call out to get help for construction of the interior of the
building, and two dozen brothers from the chapter clubs had shown up to help. Most of
them had brought at least one Prospect with him, and since then over half of the
brothers had expressed interest in staying on. The Prospect count had been almost
one hundred percent that were requesting a berth with the Mother Chapter. All in all,
things were falling into place, and him and War made a damned good team.
He moved too quickly, and immediately regretted it. Two weeks ago he was
challenged by one of the chapter presidents, and the man hadn’t been easy to beat, in
fact, he was now their Sergeant-at-Arms. The fight had taken quite a while, with neither
man willing to quit, and Race had finally gotten a lucky solid punch to the brother’s jaw,
knocking him out, before collapsing with a couple of broken ribs and sheer exhaustion.
Race had decided that if the brother was tough enough to almost whip his big ass, the
man needed to be an ally instead of someone waiting for him to turn his back for the
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knife. In spite of War’s skepticism, he’d put Bam Bam’s name up for the position, and
the man was voted in. His ribs were a lingering memory of the day, and the doctor said
he should be healed in a few more weeks.
So far he hadn’t regretted the decision, but he knew that War was keeping an eye
on Bam Bam, just in case his aspirations got the better of him. There had been the
percentage cuts too, and that had been a big problem, but the clubs would pay up, or
lose their chapters. Examples would be necessary, but unlike Wolfman, he wasn’t
demanding more than the normal percentage from each club chapter. It was no wonder
that a few were ignoring the majority of club’s examples and pul ing out of the drug
business. He had the go-ahead from the majority to demand the chapters change and
invest their time and assets into acquiring more legitimate ways to produce income.
Those that stayed for the meeting tomorrow would learn the fate of a chapter that
defied the majority’s rules.
As he was watching the crowd of people below where they sat, he spied the curvy
waitress from Double D’s and considered catching up with her later. If that fucker War
wasn’t watching her at the same time he was, he would hot foot his ass down to the bar
and chat her up. This habit his dick had of swelling whenever he saw her was getting
old damn quick. Yesterday he’d come back to the clubhouse and drafted Yo Yo into
sucking him off, because the damn thing refused to let him forget seeing her. It hadn’t
helped to know that War had done the same thing with Rose. He hated the fact they
both wanted her, and he wasn’t sure he would step aside if War got to fuck her first.
That would cause a shitstorm he didn’t want, but something about her drew him, and he
didn’t have the answer to the problem.
The men had already almost come to blows when War insisted they all get tested
for STDs. His argument that Dew Drop had been a known carrier of the clap and she
was a needle user was valid. Most of the passarounds were afraid to fuck the men that
had enjoyed the woman’s sexual favors before, and had brought their concerns to War.
Today there were several bowls of condoms
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