Drex hops down from the bar, moving to stand beside the gagged Paul who cries a little harder.
“And we’ve done all this with just a handful of us and one partially psychotic ally,” Drex adds, smirking.
Everyone looks at Jude as if compelled to do so at the mention of the partially psychotic ally. The girl standing closest to him takes several big steps back, causing me to restrain a smile as Jude rolls his eyes and drinks more of his whiskey.
Gazes shift back to Drex as he talks again. “Imagine the hell we can rain when we’re all together again.”
Roars of cheers follow that, men saluting Drex with their beers.
“And, as a gift from our newest ally, we have something to give everyone. Now, normally there’s more ceremony and tradition for such a thing, but we’re breaking all the rules lately. Might as well fuck this one in the ass, too.”
Laughter and hoots follow that, as though Drex is working the crowd. He smirks over at me before returning his attention to the numerous boxes on the ground. As he leans over and opens one, he pulls out a Death Chasers cut, and the roar of cheers almost deafens me.
“It’s official,” Drex says as the cheers die down. “We’re official. Fuck anyone who wants to argue with that.”
He studies the cut in his hand, a dark smile playing on his lips.
“And fuck anyone who stays loyal to Pop after they put this on.” He turns to look at Paul, who is shuddering as tears stream down his cheeks. “Pop might kill you. But I’ll rip your spine out before I let you die.”
Grins are the answering reaction to that.
“Hell yeah!” one guy cheers, causing resulting chuckles to ignite.
Barbarians—I’ll say it again. But it’s sort of grown on me.
At least you know you lie with danger here. It’s different from the hidden dangers that lurk behind designer suits. It’s actually a little more honest and pure.
Weird as that sounds.
He gestures toward Jude, who puts down his drink and comes to cut Paul free.
“Viewing room will be in the basement for anyone who wants to watch the show. Don’t want to get blood on our shiny new floors,” Drex says with a sadistic smile as Jude starts dragging a struggling Paul toward the basement door. “The rest of you line up for your fucking cuts and bring your drinks. It’s going to be a hell of a night.”
This time when the cheers erupt, they don’t die down very quickly at all. Sledge walks up, a cut in his hand and a smile on his lips, as he hands Axle his own cut.
“You could have told me you paid for this,” Axle tells me.
“They’re a lot more expensive than I realized. I didn’t understand why all of you hadn’t pitched in to get some yet. Now I get it. Why don’t the members pay club fees?”
Axle takes the cut, looking over the Death Chasers logo and name, fighting his grin. He’s like a kid with a new present at Christmas, but too cool to look like that in front of people.
“Because we’re not a traditional club. We’re not here just for shits and giggles and the joy of riding. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re sort of criminals and need all the hands we can to stay untouchable,” he answers absently.
When he turns it around, he freezes, staring at the Vice President patch under his name. His confused gaze swings up to Sledge then shifts to Drex as he comes to join us.
“I don’t remember voting on this,” Axle says, his frown creasing his features.
“We voted without you so that you didn’t vote against yourself. Pretty damn close to unanimous,” Drex says with a shrug.
His eyes shift to Sledge. “This should be—”
Sledge waves a dismissive hand before interrupting him. “I’m not cut out for VP. I had the wrong woman in my bed for so long that my head isn’t right yet. You’re the clear choice, kid. We all agreed on that.”
Before Axle can try to argue again, Drake struts over, eyeing the cut in Axle’s hand. His walk is normal now—no brace and no crutches.
“Glad to see you fuckers are finally showcasing my beautiful fucking art. I was wondering if it was just going to waste away. Now you can go back to being matching boys with no originality.”
Drex flips him off, shaking his head.
Drake winks at me when I grin, because I love it when he gives them hell. It’s like they all tolerate it without giving him much thought. Unique relationship, but intriguing at the same time.
And he’s technically an outsider, which makes it all the more intriguing.
“Rush still on duty?” Sledge asks Drex.
“For now. Herrin’s next move would likely be something shady,” Drex says, not calling him Pop for once. “My sister would be the most obvious target if he knows where she is.”