“Good.” He stands and slaps my shoulder. “Now, get out of my room.”
Laughing, I step into the hallway and send Murphy a text.
Me: Meet outside chapel?
Murphy: Already there.
I stalk through the maze of hallways, noting the grungy carpet under my boots. Can’t even tell what color it is anymore. Red? Brown? A far cry from the gleaming hardwood floors of our Upstate clubhouse.
Blake’s waiting at the end of the last hallway that leads into the main room.
He lifts his chin. “What’s up?”
I cast a quick glance around the area. Downstate brothers are clustered by the open chapel doors. Priest and brothers from our Mississippi charter are close to the front office. I glimpse Z’s wide shoulders in that inner circle.
This is really happening.
“I just want to stick together.”
“As if I’d go in there without you.” He slaps my shoulder and steers me toward the chapel doors. Downstate brothers are already filing into the room.
I jerk my head to the right. “Let’s blend in.”
Rock and Wrath end up near the head of the table. I catch Rock’s eye and he nods. Last of all, Priest enters with Z following.
I lean closer to Murphy. “Z looks like he’s being marched to his death,” I say low enough for only him to hear me.
He grunts in response and slides lower in his chair.
“Thank you for having us.” Priest runs his shrewd gaze over every brother seated at the table. “Awful thing when a brother’s almost taken out this way. I know this has been a rough time for everyone.”
Understatement.
Downstate brothers sit forward, hanging on Priest’s every word.
“As you know, our brothers from Upstate have been here offering support and protection. I’ve asked their VP, Zero, to stick around and take over as president until Sway recovers.”
Boom, there it is.
Ripples of conversation reverberate around the room. I study each brother closely, searching for signs of hostility. Smoke—a brother we all have questions about—grumbles and glances down at his lap.
Murphy elbows me and from the corner of my eye, I catch his chin tipping toward the other end of the table. Standing behind Z, Shadow’s watching with a dead-eyed glare.
Well, we knew he was trouble too.
I resume my study of the other brothers. Jigsaw—alert and interested. Rooster, nodding and frowning at the same time. Hustler just looks confused. And after I went over the club’s books this morning, I’m not surprised. Steer’s relaxed against the back of his chair, almost like he’s relieved he wasn’t asked to step from the SAA role into the president’s position.
Now that he’s lobbed the grenade at everyone and given us time to absorb the shock, Priest taps his knuckles against the table to regain our attention. “I hate even saying this, but if at some point it looks like Sway isn’t going to make a full recovery, then we’ll discuss other options.” He glances over and smirks at Rock. “I know Upstate isn’t pleased about losing their VP, so this isn’t a permanent arrangement. Right now,” he adds.
Rock’s expression remains steely and calm, although his eyes narrow slightly. He gives Priest a curt nod but doesn’t respond.
Z flicks his gaze to the ceiling and my chest squeezes. He’s in an awful position.
“Now, even though it’s temporary, we need to make it official,” Priest says, waving his hand at Z for him to stand and approach.
A sick sensation slithers through my stomach. Murphy and I both lean forward.
Priest crooks a finger at Rock, silently asking him to join Z. Blink hands Priest a knife and Priest hands it to Rock.