“How are things with the old lady?” Shadow asks while pointedly staring at my neck.
I laugh. “’Bout the same as yours, I’d imagine,” I reply, nodding toward the scratches visible just below the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Looks like you got your own war wounds going.”
“You mean love wounds. Ain’t war I’m interested in when I’m home,” Shadow says.
His response makes me snicker. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, well I could say the same thing for different reasons,” Shadow remarks.
“Fair point,” I say, conceding defeat as I drink my beer.
“You ladies done gossiping?” Stone asks playfully.
Shadow rolls his eyes. “You want to tell us why we’re here?”
“Got some new prospects coming on,” Stone explains.
“New blood?” I ask.
“Yeah, think your old man is trying to get right with me,” Stone answers.
“Where the hell is Mouth getting guys who want to prospect?” Shadow asks.
Stone shrugs. “Not my business what your old man does on his free time as long as it’s not interfering with the club. Considering who we’re talking about, I’m very okay not knowing. Your dad ain’t right in the head, son.”
“Figured that out a long time ago, P.”
“Good, at least one of you did.” Stone nods his head. “That brother of yours is following right behind him and taking orders like Mouth is his commanding officer. You should talk some sense into him while he still has a shot at turning things around.”
“He’s not hearing anything I say right now,” I reply.
“Make him,” Stone insists.
“You know something, P?” I ask, worried. It’s not like Stone to get so deep in people’s business.
He nods. “Mouth hasn’t been himself for a while now. If he goes down in flames, I don’t want Charm going along for the ride. I like the kid. He’s an asset to this club. I’ve seen it before, some members can’t handle change. I’m thinking your old man is one of them.”
“I’ll do what I can,” I reply, wondering if it’s already too late.
“I hope you’re not just blowing smoke up my ass and you mean it. Might be his last chance. Mouth’s seemed squirrely lately. Watch him, Shadow.”
“On it, Pres,” Shadow says.
Stone bumps Shadow’s shoulder with his fist and walks off to talk to other brothers arriving.
“That was weird,” I say.
“No, that’s good. He’s telling you if it comes down to it, you’re the Spencer he’ll endorse and keep on with the Kings.” Shadow’s eyes are narrowed and his frown is stern.
I want to pick his brain, but I know better. Enforcers can be a secretive bunch. Seems like things are starting to change around the club. I wonder if Hoss and our very public falling out have something to do with it. Regardless, it’s got me feeling like other people have my old lady’s back. I like that.
My father walks in with Charm following behind him like some kind of baby duck incapable of guiding himself, and two other men I’ve never seen. I’d place them both in their late twenties. With dark blond hair, blue eyes, and almost identical features, I peg them for brothers. Lanky, and unassuming in blue jeans and plain T-shirts they shouldn’t set me on edge, but they do. They both look like poster boys for the shitty beliefs my father is trying to peddle. What are you up to, old man?
I feel like a war is coming and we’re on opposite sides. We all file into church and I sit in the back, angled to see the center spot where the Pres is standing.
“Thanks for coming down, boys,” Stone speaks from the front of the room. “I’m here to make this short and sweet. It’s been a while since we had any fresh blood in here, and Mouth has found us two boys looking to join on. He says he can vouch for them. This here is Scott and Brett Brannon. Brothers and mason workers who own their own business. Scott is twenty-seven, and Brett is twenty-five. They have clean records, and a father who rides and taught them to respect the road from an early age on. Their Harleys are in tip-top shape, and they’re ready to pay dues, and be our bitches till we give them the yes or no vote. You’ll be seeing them around while they pledge.”
“Who are their sponsors?” Wizard asks.