Mike stepped forward, and Dare slid the cut onto his bulky frame. Maverick grinned as welcoming cheers broke out all around.
The prospect came to Maverick first. “Thanks, Maverick. Really proud to be here.”
“We’re glad to have you,” Mav said, glad to have something to celebrate, something that let them all focus on the future. One by one, everyone shook Mike’s hand and personally welcomed him, and grabbed one of the beers Blake had served up on the bar.
“Words of wisdom for our new brother?” Dare called out.
“The more you contribute, the easier it’ll be to become a full member,” Bear said. Words of agreement rang out.
“Don’t be a fuckup,” Phoenix said with a grin. He raised his beer in a salute and gave the man a wink. Guys raised their beers all around to that one, and Mike took it in good humor, laughing and nodding.
A man of few words, Caine shifted on his boots. His ice-blue eyes zeroed in on Mike. “Never discuss club business with anyone. Keeping your mouth shut is always the wise choice if you’re not sure.”
Doc rose out of his chair, no doubt the hip and knee he’d had replaced a few years before bothering him as they often did late in the day. He ran his hand over the white hair of his beard as he looked at Mike. “As Dare said, this is a family. So start by getting to know everyone. Learn their names, and the names of their wives and kids. Figure out who can use a helping hand, and offer it. If a brother breaks down at two in the morning, go help, no questions asked.”
“Amen,” someone said. Others echoed the sentiment.
“Always have your brothers’ backs,” Jagger said. “No matter what.”
Maverick nodded, agreeing down deep. The loyalty and brotherhood he’d found in this club were just two of the reasons he’d built his life around it. He hadn’t had a good relationship with his father, which just proved that you could create a family just as well as be born into one. No doubt many of the guys felt the same way because there were a lot of loners, outcasts, and men estranged from their families for all kinds of reasons standing in this room.
Mav turned to Mike. “Whenever you’re wearing that cut, you’re not just representing yourself. You’re representing the club. And me. And every man in this room. Never forget that.”
Mike nodded, taking it all in.
Dare raised his beer. “To brotherhood, club, and family.”
“Brotherhood. Club. Family,” everyone called out, following the toast. Maverick took a long pull off his beer and clapped Mike on the back. “Welcome to the Ravens.”
The man smiled and nodded, and soon got pulled into a conversation with a couple other brothers. Music turned on. Laughter rang out. On the other side of the room, someone racked up the balls on one of the pool tables.
“The club needs this,” Dare said, coming to stand beside Maverick. Was his face pale, or was Mav just imagining it? The guy hadn’t seemed himself since Friday night’s fight. “New blood. Especially with everything that’s gone on.”
“Yeah,” Maverick said, eyeballing his cousin. “Fresh enthusiasm never hurts. Especially after the other night.”
“Amen to that,” Dare said. “At least it appears we put the Baltimore issue to bed once and for all. Nick emailed news from Chen this morning. They’ve confirmed that most of the Iron Cross are either in custody, dead, or scattered.”
Mav sighed as a weight lifted off his shoulders. Having that threat gone? Knowing those who’d hurt his mother wouldn’t be able to do it again? Yeah, he couldn’t help but feel good about that. “Glad that’s behind us.”
Jagger joined them, his fingers tapping out a beat against the back of an iPad he held.
Maverick clasped hands with the guy. “What’s up, Jag?”
He raked longish brown hair back from his face. “The carnival’s what’s up. And I’m nailing down volunteers for shit while everyone’s here.”
“Damn, Jagger. You work fast,” Maverick said. The guy always went above and beyond for the club, which was why their operations at the racetrack were such a success, recent catastrophe notwithstanding. “What do you need?”
“Eh, it’s not all me. I’ve had help,” he said, tapping on the tablet. “Okay, I have tickets, parking, and meeting the race car drivers almost covered. But I need setup and tear-down and dunking booth victims.” Jagger smirked.
“Count me out for that shit,” Dare said, and then he rushed to add, “Wound. Very serious wound. Can’t get it wet. Doctor’s orders.”
Maverick threw him a look. “Doctor also said to keep your stubborn ass off your ride. Expect me to push on that next time.” Dare flipped him off, clearly pleased that he had a reason not to get wet. Shaking his head, Mav said, “Count me in for the damn dunking booth. And put both of us down for setting up.” Dare gave a nod.