Chapter 3
Thorn
Dirty Harry’s was the biker bar that The Grim Reapers owned, and where the members met up. Enzo had set the tradition of conducting Church in the back office, and that was where I was headed the next morning.
The boys had got the message I’d sent out early that morning, and when I entered the office; I saw that they were all already assembled there. Brooks was now the new VP, taking over from me. Jamison was our Sergeant in Arms, Topher was Treasurer and Beckett was Road Captain. The core team of the club had all gathered in one room, and there was a distinct absence of the others. Others who would have been present on any other day, before we were attacked.
The men grew silent when they saw me enter. This was the first Church to be called in ten days-which meant that it was also the first Church to be called by me, as President.
“We should sit down,” I grumbled as my first words. The men looked at each other, brothers in arms who trusted each other and one by one, we each took a chair at the table. I knew what was going through their heads, the same thoughts that were going through mine. That it was strange to have Enzo and the others absent today.
Brooks ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. I knew he had something to say.
“This is fucking crazy, man. Enzo and our brothers are in prison, and we’re sitting here on leather chairs,” he growled. I clenched my jaw and could feel my hands fisting up.
“I spoke to him,” I said, and an immediate chatter rang up in the group. They all had questions. None of them had spoken to Enzo or the others in the past three days, and they all wanted to know what was going on.
“Did you tell him we’re going to go get him?”
“How is he holding up?”
“Does he need protection?”
“Fuck!”
“We’ll fuck them up!”
The words were being thrown around in the room. Everyone was talking at once, and I could see that they were all riled up. I raised a hand up in the air to silence them, and just like that, there was peace in the room again.
“He’s okay. He sounded okay. They’re being transferred to County prison today, and he said that they’ve figured out protection on the inside. He doesn’t need our help,” I said, and Jamison banged his fist on the table.
“Fuck that, man. We’ll have to raid the prison or something to get them out. Let’s do it,” he barked.
“Give us the order!” Beckett added, and I shook my head.
“That is the exact opposite of what Enzo wants us to do right now,” I said, trying to copy the same calmness that Enzo had displayed over the phone.
“What the fuck are you talking about, brother?” Brooks growled, and I looked him square in the eye. For Enzo to convince me that we needed to take a step back, was an easy task. For me to convince this blood-thirsty bunch to do the same; was going to be a whole different story.
“I’m talking about laying low. We’ve taken a huge hit. We can’t afford to go on the attack right now. It could completely destroy the club. If we lost any more of our men; if any more of us got arrested, there would be nothing left of The Grim Reapers,” I growled back. We were already a smaller club that most of them in the area. Another blow and there would be nothing left.
I could see the rage bubbling up in each of them. They were all feeling what I had felt when I spoke to Enzo. A desperate urge to hit out. An animalistic need for vengeance. I could see Topher’s mouth quivering, as he tried to stop himself from erupting.
“We need to deflect attention. Stay away from the weapons,” I reiterated.
“But what about our suppliers and buyers? We’re going to fucking lose business!” Topher spat, and I drummed my fingers on the table.
“I’ll take care of that. I’ll speak to them. We can’t take any more chances right now. The ATF is dying to take us all down. We’d be putting the whole club at risk, as well as the guys who are in prison already,” I replied.
The men were silent now. They were confused because I was ordering them to go against their first instinct of attack.
“So, lay low how? What the fuck are we going to do?” Beckett asked, and I drew in a deep breath before I spoke again.
“We have to think of some kind of legit business to get ourselves involved in,” I said. “Make the ATF bored with us, so they move on to something else.” This wasn’t something that Enzo had told me, but it was the best idea I could come up with. I knew that these men needed to vent, they needed something to occupy themselves with while we waited for Enzo’s next command.
“A legit business? Like fucking what?” Brooks barked again, and I shrugged my shoulders.
“This is why I’m talking to you guys. We need to figure out an idea, something to keep us clean-at least for a while,” I replied, and they exchanged looks again. I could see that it would take them a while for the news to sink in. Until then, it would have to be me doing all the thinking.
“Any ideas?” I urged them, but they remained silent; just staring at me blankly like I had just asked them to shoot each other.
I stood up from my chair with a jerk. The best thing to do right now would be to leave the idea hanging, allow it to sink in so they could all accept it.
“Put your thinking caps on, boys. Get back to me if you have any ideas. Till then, just remember that the idea is to stay low and stay out of trouble. Comprendé?” I declared as I started walking out of the room.
The whole club was still in shock. Nothing like this had ever happened to us before, and it was time for me to take charge.