was the last place anyone wanted to fuckin’ be.
“And what about you three fuckin’ knuckleheads?” Dragon’s obsidian eyes tracked to my left and behind me, fixing on Skeeter, Derry, and Goner. “How the fuck did you not know what the rest of your crew was up to?”
I stepped back and to the right where the rest of my crew had my back and gave the floor of crunchy fallen leaves to what was left of the Eastern Washington chapter.
Dragon efficiently eviscerated their stories. All except for Derry, who legit had a reason to not know what was up between spending some time in jail on a drunk and disorderly when the shit started to go sideways only to follow up with having to take care of his ailing mother, who later passed around the same time shit got real.
By the time all was said and done, Goner was on probation with the club and likely to be stripped of his patch and put out bad if he so much as stepped a toe out of line. Skeeter was stripped of his position as VP and wouldn’t be allowed to hold an officer’s position again for five years with any chapter. Derry had barely skirted any consequences, but that was because he was just as disgusted with the rest of his crew as anybody else here and had asked, practically on bended knee, to join mine for a fresh start away from the bullshit.
Me and mine were happy to take him, but the rest of the Eastern Washington Chapter was as good as dissolved. Every man in jail was proclaimed out bad for the murder of that family and truthfully? Jail or prison was as safe a place as they could be. Outside our reach – for the most part. There were a couple of Eastern Washington guys that were locked up during the whole damn mess that were still right with the club for not knowing anything.
Those two, in conjunction with a pack of nomads that were white knighting, riding to the rescue in from parts unknown, were going to rebuild the Eastern Washington chapter from the dusty ground on up.
It wasn’t an overnight fix by any means, but my crew was prepared to pick up the slack and help the new crew coming in learn the ropes. Idaho was stepping up in a big way to help from the other side to help the new group of guys get settled.
We spent way too long banging out the details under the shade of those trees by the lake. The shade was good, the random puffs of breeze from the water refreshing when they came, but it was still hot as fuck out there and by the end, I was ready for a cold beer, some dinner, and some time by the fire.
Mostly, I wanted to see how my little zaychik was doing. I hadn’t seen her since we’d gotten here. Of course, we’d arrived, had just enough time to put our stuff down in our respective rooms and whatnot before we’d hustled to get shit squared away with the big boss out back in the clearing by the head honcho’s cabin.
I went up the path, Fenris on my right and Glass Jaw on my left and scratched an itch below my bottom lip with a thumbnail, still digesting everything that’d gone down.
“Glass, you put in a call back home as quick as you can and fill in D.T. on the immediate adjustments that need to be made.”
“Copy that.” Glass shot me a quick salute and surged up the pathway ahead of us.
“You believe that shit with Skeeter and Goner?” Fen growled low.
“Yes and no,” I said. “Goner I believe it, but Skeeter? I think he was telling the truth. He didn’t know shit – but he knew something wasn’t right. He just didn’t want to know.”
“Right.”
“What I can’t believe,” I continued, “was that they actually thought they wouldn’t get caught out. Still, the new crew coming in is going to need some guidance and Skeeter has a real chance at redemption there. I don’t envision Goner’s gonna make it with the new leadership.”
“Not sure what this is gonna look like,” Fen said, the misgivings clear in his dispassionate tone. I told him the truth.
“Me either, brother. We’ll just have to see when the FNG’s show up how we mesh and how they want to handle things.”
Someone just behind us laughed, and I looked back over my shoulder. Reaver, the mother