throws a look my way that’s impossible to interpret, and nods. “Yeah.”
Knowing Drummer needs to know everything, I continue to throw my new chapter to the wolves. “And Demon.”
“Major?” Drummer roars. He leans over the table, then drops back down in his seat so hard I wouldn’t be surprised to hear the chair break. His head drops into his hands. While he thinks, it would be possible to hear a pin drop. Then, without raising his head, he says, “Snatcher, Pip, Road. Out.”
I stand. I’m being banished by my prez, and I don’t know what to make of that. Because I’m not an officer, perhaps? Nah, that’s wishful thinking. It’s because I’ve wronged my club. I should have been honest with him from the start.
Out in the corridor, Pip’s hand lands on my shoulder. “I’ll explain I was the one texting him when you first got here, Road. It wasn’t you that misled him.”
“You gave me back my phone,” I remind him. “I still didn’t clue him in.”
His hand slips to my back, and he pushes me in the direction of the elevator. “Let’s join the others. They’ll be wanting news.”
Sure. But what exactly can we tell them? I could enlighten them I’ve never seen my prez so angry, but somehow, I don’t think that would help.
As the elevator dings and the door opens, I feel much like a celebrity entering a party as all eyes turn our way. Pip steps to the fore and moves toward the bar, which seems like a good idea. If ever there was a time I needed a drink, it’s now.
Thor and Preacher are first to approach. Pip nods, takes a beer which Brute has put into his hand, then turns to the prospect.
“Go join Igor and Gears downstairs. Keep an eye on the meeting room. If our visitors come out, see if they need anything, and if they want me, you know what to do.”
“Sure, Prez.”
“Is Swift still a Devil?” Stormy shouts from the back of the room.
I notice Swift, standing by the bar, straightens at that question. My eyes linger on her a second too long, trying to signal no one’s yet made a decision.
“Are any of us?” Pip responds enigmatically. “Fuck knows.”
“They know the truth?” Preacher asks.
Wondering whether he’s going to drop me in it, I glance to the elevator seeing the doors are closed and recall Brute’s in it heading down to the first floor. Without knowing where the stairwell is located, my immediate escape route is blocked off now.
“Yeah, and then some. We came completely clean.”
Inwardly I sigh with relief as Pip shoulders the blame.
“What happens if we lose the charter?” Piston asks. “Is that possible?”
“More than possible, likely,” Snatcher states, raising a shot glass and downing it in one. Having wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, he continues, “We’ve bent the rules so far away from true, I’m not sure how Drummer can condone it.”
“Could he strip our patches and send us out in bad standing?”
“Unlikely, I’d say,” Pip responds. “We might no longer be Satan’s Devils, but that doesn’t mean we can’t stay together. Form our own club.”
“Unless he thinks we’ve wronged the Satan’s Devils’ patch,” Thor observes, pinching his nose between his finger and thumb.
“How the fuck could we have wronged them?” Swift’s eyes widen with her indignation. “We rescue people, that’s not wrong. Or is it because I’m a member?”
Pip’s eyes land on one man, and when heads turn, they all point in the same direction.
“What? Oh, hell, yeah. Blame me.” Stormy throws up his hands. “I get the job done—”
“While pissing people off in the process.”
I’ve not seen Pip show much emotion before, but it’s clear he’s making a concerted effort to bring himself under control. His knuckles are white as he holds his empty bottle, his jaw is clenched, and twin spots of red adorn his cheeks.
I’m clearly not the only person to notice.
Preacher, throwing a glower Stormy’s way, his eyes signalling a threat that he’s to keep his mouth closed, he nods to Piston who goes behind the bar and gets Pip a fresh beer.
“What are our options?” the sergeant-at-arms asks, once Pip’s hand relaxes as it moves the drink to his mouth.
Pip breathes out, and some of his tension goes with it. I might not know the man well, but well enough that finding solutions to problems is what he’s best at.
“Do we want to keep the charter enough to throw Swift out?” His challenge rings out around