“What kind of man did your father teach you to be, growing up in an MC?” I asked quietly.
Buck’s focus shifted to me and it was piercing.
“The kinda man who’s loyal to his brothers, who’s willin’ to fight for his way of life. And yeah, that life isn’t what some think is normal. It’s a big step out of suburbia and soccer moms and desk jobs and wearin’ suits. But the people in it are good. Solid. Dependable.”
This was definitely my experience, so I nodded again.
Buck kept going.
“And Dad taught me to be a man who’s willin’ to put his ass out there to defend his MC. I can’t tell you everything Dad did was what’s considered legal. I can tell you he wasn’t playin’ any part in putting drugs and guns on the streets, and he didn’t crawl up the asses of shitheels that ruin lives. His MC did their business with people who made their own choices, and his MC played their own games by their own rules, and they didn’t make deals for the sole fuckin’ purpose of linin’ their pockets with cake.”
“But you didn’t get out of Aces.”
“No, I fuckin’ did not. This is my Club. My father’s Club. My grandfather’s Club. And these are my brothers. You earn your patch, babe, you don’t disagree, take it off and walk away. You suck it up and fight for the MC. That’s the kind of man my father taught me to be. And I got kids, kids I didn’t want goin’ off the rails and fuckin’ up their lives, growin’ up with that shit around them. Growin’ up with a dad who made that shit easier to find on the streets.”
“So you changed things,” I whispered.
“No, Toots, I didn’t,” he replied, and I felt my stomach twist.
“You didn’t?”
“Fuck no.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I didn’t. We did. My brothers did. We all did. I was a part of that, and it was my idea. But they only did it eventually.”
“Sorry?”
“That’s what you gotta know. I was a part of all that shit. I didn’t keep myself clean. I voted my vote, got voted down, then went the way of the vote. I did what the MC decided.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he whispered back.
“But—”
He cut me off. “That Club up in Denver my sister’s old man is in? Chaos?”
I nodded.
“Years ago, they went the same way. A bad way. Then they got a president who went balls to the wall to get them clean. It sucks, but even as it does, it doesn’t make it any less true, money makes the world go ’round. I learned from what my sister told me about Chaos. We needed to cover the money. That was what Chaos did. They had a garage and sold pot. Got deeper into shit. Same time they did that, this brother, the one who wanted them clean, started an auto supply store, built that up, built up the garage’s reputation, and boom. Brothers worked at something good and clean, could pay their mortgages, raise their families, live good lives. So I talked the men around. We opened the store. Built the contracting. And we covered the money.”
“You?” I asked.
“Yeah, like I said, it was my idea. Brought it to the men. Ink, Cruise, Gash, Riot, Chap, Lynch, Slate worked it with me. So, when I made my play to get the gavel, I got the vote. We started the shop. Store doin’ business, jobs piling up, money coming in, men having their place in all that, less time on their hands, responsibility to the others to keep things tight, we got our shit together. For Chaos, it got ugly. For us, I can’t say it was easy. Those ties, they bind, and I’m not sure you ever get loose. You gotta keep your rep up. You gotta make certain no one thinks they can fuck with you. That’s just the way of any MC. But when you start dealing with garbage, you got more to worry about. You sink in that, you never really get rid of the smell. It’s always threatening.”
The troubles in the Club.
This was what Minnie was talking about.
“So you don’t run protection for drug and gun runs,” I said softly.
“Nope, Aces took that hit. Unanimous decision in the Club. Unpopular out of it.”
“So it’s okay now?” I asked uncertainly.
“No, babe.” He shook his head. “It’s not. We still got heat and pressure to re-enter the game. And some think what we did was pussy. So there are constant turf wars, dickheads like Esposito leanin’ on us. It’s not okay. Every meet we have, we gotta vote about how to deal with some shit someone is shoveling. Sometimes it’s a pain, members of another MC talkin’ smack to an Ace out at some bar, thinkin’ they can rile us with disrespect just because they’re bored, stupid or both. Dumb shit we don’t bother with because it isn’t worth the effort. Other times, it’s a pain in the ass because it’s a situation that requires handling. Carefully. But bottom line is, the shop and the jobs have to produce. Each month’s split has to be worth it. Because not a single brother has forgotten what used to be. They remember it as easy money. Some of them forget, not only was it dirty, it was also a lot of other things.”