Jake
It wasn't my first time in jail, and I had a feeling it probably wouldn't be my last. Not that I'd done anything too horrible in the past, but there had been a couple bar fights and a few drunken and disorderly conduct charges that had landed me in the slammer overnight.
I had never really flown off the handle like I had with Brian, though. I winced, remembering the horror in Halley's face as I'd be pushed into the cop car. I doubted she wanted anything to do with me anymore, and she almost certainly wouldn't let me near Cole again.
I hadn't been able to help it, though. Seeing her cowering there in the hall, with tears on her face, looking terrified and disheveled — it would take a much stronger man than me to not react to that. And the fact that Cole had been there as well, just as terrified and upset, with tears on his face… Well, the bastard deserved to be killed for doing that to them.
I hadn't been able to stop myself as I punched Brian over and over and over again, feeling rage course through me in a way that I had never felt before.
A guard appeared at the doorway to my cell. “There's someone here to bail you out,” he said, sounding displeased, as though he hoped I was going to be stuck in there for longer.
I stood and dusted off my jeans, following him out the cell and down the hallway towards freedom. I collected my personal effects and went through the door into the lobby of the station. Of course, it was Frank standing there, giving me a stern look. Without a word, he steered me out of the station and towards his truck. “You've botched this one,” he finally said, his eyes fixed on the road.
I swallowed hard and ducked my head. I had never been on this side of his disappointment before; that was the tone he normally reserved for use with Max. Still...
“I couldn't help it, Frank,” I muttered, hating how sullen I sounded. “God, you should have seen the bastard. He had Halley and Cole backed up into a corner and was just threatening them. I don't doubt that he hit Halley before I got there, either. I mean, fuck, if I hadn't been heading over there after the meeting anyways, I don't know what would have happened to them. I think the fucker was about ready to murder them.”
Frank frowned. “And fighting for the ones that you love is all well and good,” he agreed. “But you weren't thinking. If you had done it in private, that would have been one thing. But now a nice suburban neighborhood is worried about beastly biker dudes coming to pick fights on their front lawn, and the local law enforcement is breathing fire down our necks.”
“I just didn't want to beat up Brian in front of Cole,” I said, even though I could see where Frank was coming from.
“That was a good thought,” Frank said. “But unfortunately, the club has decided to call a meeting to discuss your misconduct.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. The thing was, this wasn't unexpected. I'd spent the whole night in the jail thinking about what I'd done, and I'd come to the same conclusions. I'd been sloppy. I'd been acting with my heart rather than my head. That wasn't the way to conduct missions, and that was exactly what always got Max into hot water. The club had every right to come up with some sort of punishment for me, and I didn't doubt that there would be plenty of them asking for me to be demoted, for Frank to pick someone else as a successor.
I sighed and scrubbed a hand back through my hair. “I'm going to have to stand trial against that bastard now, and that's going to make things even messier.”
Frank gave me a strange, crooked smile. “Well, fortunately for you, Brian has generously agreed not to press charges.”
I gaped at him. I should have known Frank would spend the time I was in jail cleaning up after me. “What did you do?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I bribed the hospital to let me in to see him. And then I suggested it might be best for Brian to leave town and to never go near Halley and Cole again. I stressed the fact that if he stayed in town, he would have a whole hoard of demon bikers out for his blood. Anyway, there are going to be repercussions to him for violating the restraining order. So, he'll be out of your hair for at least a little while. And he won't be pressing charges.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks,” I said, as we pulled into the parking lot of the clubhouse.
Frank waved away my gratitude. “Don't thank me yet,” he said grimly. “We still have to see what sort of punishment the rest of Devil's Route want to lay on you.”
I shook my head, knowing that he was right, and got out of the truck, squaring my shoulders and following him into the building.
Everyone was already gathered in there when we arrived, and they all stared at me with varying amounts of grimness on their faces. Frank and I took our seats.
“So, I'm sure that by now, everyone knows what happened with Jake last night,” Frank said wryly.
Mike snorted. “Of course we do; it's been all over the news. Apparently one of that girl's neighbors filmed the whole thing once it spilled out into the yard? It's pretty gruesome viewing.”
I felt the tips of my ears burn. “Look—” I began, but Frank held up a hand and I fell silent.
“We all know what happened,” Frank repeated. “And we all know what the police reaction was to it, mainly that they're putting pressure on us. It's not the end of the world; we've been keeping out of their way and under the radar for the most part in recent years, so they're not too upset. But we can all agree that Jake's actions were … less than ideal. All those in favor of punishment for him, this is the chance to make your voice heard.”
For a moment, no one said anything. Then, Max stood up. “I say we eject him from the club,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.
“Hey, now, wait a minute!” I said heatedly, about to point out the number of fuck-ups that Max had made and demand that he be the one ejected from the club, if we were going to eject someone.
“Max has the floor,” Frank reminded me, putting a gentle hand on my wrist in a clear warning. He didn't want to rebuke me, specially not now, when my reputation was already hanging in tatters—but he would if he had to. I grudgingly shut my mouth.
“As I was saying,” Max said, shooting me a dirty look. “I think he should be ejected from the club. We don't need that sort of image. This is the most high-profile recognition that we've gotten in years, and it's because the dumbass didn't think. Brian Scott is part of one of the uppermost echelons of our society, thanks to his family's inherited wealth and their generous contributions to various charities. It's–”
“We get the point,” Bryce interrupted. “Maybe for once, Jake wasn't thinking with his head. “But I still think ejection is a little extreme. The kid has only masterminded most of our more complex missions over the past few years. Anyway, we all know Jake is harder on himself than any of us ever would be to him. The guilt alone should be enough to deter him in the future.”
Frank shot Bryce a warning look but didn't issue a rebuke to him either. I started to wonder what his punishment for me would be, if it were solely up to him. But I wouldn't find that out here. I'd be lucky if he would tell me that in private.
“Does anyone else have any suggestions for what the punishment might be?” Frank asked the group.
No one else spoke, and he laughed a little. “All right, so it's ejection or nothing, I suppose. Now, all those in favor of Jake being ejected from the Devil's Route MC?”
Max was the only person to raise his hand, not even his friends dared to raise their hands with him, much to his frustration.
Frank nodded decisively. “Well, it looks like he stays.” He narrowed his eyes at me, but there was a warmth there that belied his true feelings. “But don't let this happen again.” He stood up. “Well, I believe I'll need to go have a little chat with the sheriff and make sure that things are really smoothed over. Everyone else, have a great rest of your day.”