Atone (The Disciples 2)

He frowns as his green eyes bore into mine. “You okay, man?” He stands up. He’s dressed in faded dark jeans and some stupid designer T-shirt.

I should have known Reed Saddington would be fine. No matter what, he always lands on his feet.

“No, I’m not okay.” I pull my hands through my hair. “I fucking put my life at risk driving like a maniac so no one would fuck with you.”

The whole room explodes with laughter. I scowl at all of them.

“Fuck you, guys.”

Pulling out a chair, I collapse into it, kind of pissed I left Charlie at the diner, and here they all sit getting fucked up as Ryder orders pizza.

“Poet, we had no idea Saddington was like this. We really thought you sucked his cock.” Blade looks at me deadpan, then hits the table with his palm.

“The fuck?” Reed turns to Blade and throws his head back to laugh.

“It’s no big deal. Have another shot.”

I look around and the Disciples are milling around thinking that we are having Church, but with Reed here, that can’t happen.

“No Church today, brothers. Officers meeting only.” Blade stands up and pulls out his knife and stabs it into the wooden conference table. There’s a murmur of grumbles as the old-timers get up. The younger brothers all shuffle out.

“Prez?”

We turn to stare at Lucky, a huge frown on his face. Lucky gets a lot of respect seeing as he stepped up and made sure the club didn’t go down when we got blown up. He stands tall and strong even though he’s got to be pushing midsixties.

“Permission to speak?”

Blade pours himself another shot not looking at him or the guys standing behind him.

“Speak, Lucky.” He pushes the shot to Reed and takes a long swig from the bottle.

Lucky’s eyes dart around all of us landing on me then Reed.

“I don’t like this. We’re supposed to have Church. Now you have some kind of secret meeting with officers only. What kind of shit is that?” The other Disciples stand behind him, murmuring.

“You hiding something, Prez? ’Cause last I checked, we’re a fucking family and now we got this pretty boy in our sacred room.” He motions at Reed who leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

The room is silent besides the hum of the Budweiser sign. Blade looks over at Reed, then at me, and smiles.

Motioning with his hand, he says, “Lucky, out of respect to you… if you want to stay, you can.” He points with the Jack Daniels bottle for the rest to leave. “All others out.”

Lucky pulls out a seat, lights up a cigarette, and glares at Reed.

“Why the fuck is he here? See this shit”—he points at all of us with his weathered hand, his fingers stained yellow—“this shit is wrong. We don’t have secrets and this looks like secrets.”

Ryder leans his large hands on the table and sort of growls out, “You want to step outside, Lucky? I’ll go easy on you since you’re already halfway into your grave.”

Lucky inhales his cancer stick and shakes his head. The wrinkles in his face are like deep craters.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Nah, I’m gonna sit here and figure out what’s going on.”

“Lucky, you’re here out of respect. You’re no longer part of my old man’s officers. So, shut the fuck up, or I’ll throw your ass out.”

Blade stands up and reaches for the briefcase. It makes a loud scratching noise as it’s dragged across the wooden table.

I look over at Reed who leans forward, his elbows resting on the table, eyes focused on his shot glass like it’s the most interesting thing alive. He’s done, and Blade’s right. Lucky needs to shut the fuck up or Ryder will enforce.

Blade puts the briefcase in front of Reed who uses his thumbprint to open it, revealing a file and enormous amounts of cash.

“I have the means and the ability with my family connections to get most anything. I had one of my father’s guys get ahold of this file from the FBI.” He tosses it to me. “I hope you find your answers, brother.” His green eyes look sincere.

“Any other information I gain will be passed on. The cash…” He dumps it all out on the table and bundles of stacks of hundreds tumble to the floor. “This is a gift. David saved my life, gave me the shirt off his back. I will help him in any way I can. Those pieces of shit who wronged this club and killed your loved ones… Buy what you need and take them down.” He looks at the room and I swear to God, give Reed ten more years and he’ll be running for president.

“Je-sus that’s a lot of money.” Edge picks up one pile and fans through it.

“This is crazy.” Lucky’s eyes look wild. “You’re not seriously thinking about putting us into a war, are you?” He stands up and flicks his cigarette on the money. “I may be old, but I was there when this went down,” he says. “It was bloody. Fuck, we barely made it. And now the club is thriving.”