Shades (Evil Dead MC 3)

He eyed the two men. Their eyes moved from him to each other. Slick was the first to respond, his chair creaking loudly in the room as he leaned forward.

“With all due respect and all—fuck, no.”

Butcher grinned. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t need the headache, for one. For another, I think it’s time you bring up some younger blood. It’ll do the club good. Especially, with recruiting. They see they got a shot at some kind of position without waiting for all us old guys to die off, it might make a difference.”

Butcher nodded, considering his words. Then his gaze swung to Boot. “What about you?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather stick with being Sargent at Arms. More fun.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“You good with fillin’ in until we can vote somebody else in?”

“Yeah. I’m good with that. Just don’t want the job permanent-like.”

Butcher leaned back. “You two got any ideas who you want to see as VP, then?”

They both replied at the same time. “Shades.”

Butcher nodded. “He’s a good man. Got his shit together. No question about loyalty.”

“But?” Slick prodded.

“You think he’d have the vote?”

Slick put his elbows on the table, his hand running over his chin. “Yeah, I do. Why, you don’t?”

Butcher let out a long breath. “VP’s only one shot away from being President.”

“Come on, Butcher. Don’t talk like that. Who’d want to put a bullet in you?” Slick asked sarcastically.

“Besides your ex-wife,” Boot added with a chuckle.

A grin pulled at the corner of Butcher’s mouth. “Right.”

“So?” Slick quirked an eyebrow.

Butcher put his head down, studying the table and contemplated. “I think he needs to be given some more responsibility. See how he does with that, before I hand over the VP patch.”

Boot shrugged. “Give him the membership drive.”

Slick leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “How about the shit goin’ down on the Gulf Coast?”

“Think he can handle it?” Butcher asked with a frown, looking up.

Slick grinned. “Only one way to find out.”

CHAPTER SIX

Three months later…

Shades sat at the table in the clubhouse meeting room. Church was just about to finish up. All their business had been discussed.

“Oh, one more thing before we adjourn. We’re gonna be having some guests from out-of-town,” Butcher said from his place at the head of the table.

“Yeah? Who’s that?” Griz asked.

“Some of you may have heard in the news about that house fire the other day. Two people were killed.”