Throne of Scars (Lost Kings MC 20)

“I’ll deflect the property patch issue easily,” Priest counters. “It’s no different than wearing a wedding ring—”

“Sorry, but there is a huge difference between a band around your finger and a patch on your back saying property of,” Dex says. “You’ll look insincere as fuck if you try that play.”

Damn, Dex is laying down the hard truths today.

“You have a problem with our traditions?” Priest asks with a raised eyebrow and dangerous tone.

Dex isn’t intimidated by Priest. He sits up and looks him right in the eye. “Not at all. It’s a private ritual that we understand. It has meaning in our world and that’s all that matters. I don’t like having something so important to us opened up to outsiders to ridicule, question, and make assumptions about.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s disrespectful to our women who wear the patch.”

Murmurs of approval go around the table. Even Blink cocks his head like he hadn’t considered that before.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” At least Priest sounds more thoughtful than annoyed now.

“Um, can we go back to the bringing attention to our businesses thing?” Sparky asks. “I don’t see that being good for us. Like, at all.”

Z nods, picking up Sparky’s thread. “Not all clubs are completely legit. Washington may be out of the press for now, but they’re still waging a war with other clubs. Thumbing your nose at the government in such a public way might not be the wisest choice. Just because Washington beat one case doesn’t mean the government won’t cook up another.”

“I think that only gives us more of a reason to do it,” Priest insists. “They can focus on the so-called seedy aspects like the strip clubs and porn all they want. Distasteful or not, they’re legal. Let the world think that’s our only source of income. It fits the biker image and moves the attention away from other revenue streams.”

Rooster shakes his head. “Except, down in Tennessee you had girls trying to pull a hustle on the customers by druggin’ and robbin’ them. Digger cleaned up that mess. We got lucky that most of the marks were too embarrassed to come forward and press charges. But if you put the Royal Dolls on television, you’re bound to have more people coming out of the woodwork with stories to share. That could bring a lot of heat to the club.”

Priest stares at Rooster as if he’s trying to decide if he should thank him or murder him. “That’s a good point. We can use our place in Mississippi as an example. Or Crystal Ball. There hasn’t been any misconduct that I’m aware of there.”

Dex’s eyes are screaming over my dead body, but he looks to Rock to take the question.

“The club is a front for laundering money,” Rock says. “I doubt a film crew’s gonna want to dig into our taxes, but you never know.”

What a diplomatic non-answer with a side of thinly veiled sarcasm. Proud of Rock for maintaining his cool during this fuckery of a meeting.

“Ice?” Priest lifts his chin at our Virginia charter’s president. “It might bring your girl’s website some extra traffic.”

“Anya does fine without adding extra heat,” Ice answers.

Priest’s jaw tightens.

“I doubt Stella will care one way or another.” Z nods at Hustler. “You can run it by her if this goes any further.”

“Sure, I can do that,” Hustler agrees. “She might be the best one to showcase since she’s got all those other legit writing gigs and stuff she does. A classy chick like her could help tone down the seedy image.”

Priest narrows his eyes at me and my skin prickles. “Grinder, you have any thoughts on this?”

None that you want to hear. “I’m still struggling to adjust to all the changes in the world. Technology hasn’t been my friend since I got out. Not sure my opinion is valid here.”

“Your opinion is always valued. As an older member your perspective is important,” he insists.

Since you asked. “I’m used to the old days where we didn’t give a fuck what society thought of us and kept to ourselves. Courting the media feels unnatural. Begging the public to see us as cuddly teddy bears in leather seems undignified for a biker.” That might’ve been too harsh. “But maybe modern times call for modern solutions,” I finish, striving for a respectful thought to end on.

“Modern times call for modern solutions.” Priest nods slowly. “I like that.”

That’s all you took from what I said?

“Well then, I’ll keep everyone updated on how this moves forward. If it moves forward.” Priest slaps the table. “That’s all I had to share. Thanks for allowing me to take over your meeting.”

“Anytime.” Z scans the length of the table. “Does anyone else have any matters they need to discuss?”

“I’ll be around if anyone wants to speak to me privately,” Priest offers. He jerks his head toward the door and Blink follows him out.