sort of surrogate father, but always a little distant, more like an uncle. Giles was more of a mentor than a friend, and the others actually knew very little about him or his history. Charlie, on the other hand, had been his friend, his best friend, his only friend, for years. He’d prospected for the Rabids, but before he patched into the club Charlie’s aunt had gotten sick and his father had moved to Louisiana to care for her and Charlie had gone with him to help out.
“The club is my home. Only home I’ve ever known. I know that we’ve got some snags, that the lack of space at the table is puttin’ boys off startin’ to prospect. If you need me to make way at the table I will.”
“You know we don’t wanna see you go. But there’s an opportunity for you there, see something else besides the dust here. It don’t havta be a permanent move. They’re reachin’ out for help; they’re okay with you goin’ on loan. How you do it is up to you.”
“Seems wrong to me to do that. If I’m askin’ them to have my back, seems only fair to go all the way.”
Jimmy nodded his head. “That’s a good view. Like I said, it’s up to you how you do it. There’ll always be a seat here for you, brother.”
A spark of disquiet lit in Paul’s stomach. There wouldn’t always be a seat for him; not really, they would fill his before it was cold. That spark helped him make his mind up.
“Yeah, I’m gonna go. I’ll patch over to the Priests.”
“We’ll be sorry to lose you, brother.” Giles voice had the timbre of a forty-a-day smoker, even though to the best of Paul’s knowledge he never touched anything other than the occasional joint.
Jimmy called out. “Right, that’s enough for today.” He looked at Paul. “We’ll discuss details another time.” He looked back round the table. “Be off with you, you load of miscreants.” He banged the gavel which preceded a significant rise in the volume of chatter as voices fought to be heard over the scraping of chairs and the tramping of boots.
Paul had half risen out of his seat when Jimmy’s low voice cut through the melee. “Paul. You got a minute for us?”
Neither Jimmy nor Giles had risen from their seats. With a nod to Rabbit’s questioning look, Paul resumed his. Rabbit nodded back and, as the last person to leave the room, closed the doors behind him.
Jimmy waited. Paul wasn’t sure what he was waiting for; everyone had gone, but he heard the ticking of the clock on the wall as it counted out the seconds in the near silence. Eventually, whatever stars Jimmy was waiting on to align slid into place.
“Brother, you’ve been a part of this club a long time. You’ve shed blood for us, and you’ve spilt it in the name of the club, more than most. I’ve got a big ask for you now, son.”
“What do you need?”
“It’s good that you want to patch over to the Priests. That’s good. That’s gonna gain you a lotta trust.”
Jimmy’s cryptic reasoning made Paul uneasy; it wasn’t helped by Giles’ continued silence. He looked between the two men who were staring intently at him.
“What’s up, boss?”
“We need you to do one last job for us, but it won’t be as a Rabid. Once you’re in the fold, we need you to take out Samuel.”
The first thing that Paul understood as he recovered the ability to think through the shock was that if he refused this request he would not see another sunrise. No matter what he promised, Jimmy and Giles would not let him live after revealing their play like this if he wasn’t on board. The second was that it was a bizarre request, the Rabids and the Priests had always had a healthy relationship.
“Can you tell me what’s goin’ on that you need me to do this?” Paul asked. Jimmy and Giles shared a look. It was Giles who spoke
“The club is my home. Only home I’ve ever known. I know that we’ve got some snags, that the lack of space at the table is puttin’ boys off startin’ to prospect. If you need me to make way at the table I will.”
“You know we don’t wanna see you go. But there’s an opportunity for you there, see something else besides the dust here. It don’t havta be a permanent move. They’re reachin’ out for help; they’re okay with you goin’ on loan. How you do it is up to you.”
“Seems wrong to me to do that. If I’m askin’ them to have my back, seems only fair to go all the way.”
Jimmy nodded his head. “That’s a good view. Like I said, it’s up to you how you do it. There’ll always be a seat here for you, brother.”
A spark of disquiet lit in Paul’s stomach. There wouldn’t always be a seat for him; not really, they would fill his before it was cold. That spark helped him make his mind up.
“Yeah, I’m gonna go. I’ll patch over to the Priests.”
“We’ll be sorry to lose you, brother.” Giles voice had the timbre of a forty-a-day smoker, even though to the best of Paul’s knowledge he never touched anything other than the occasional joint.
Jimmy called out. “Right, that’s enough for today.” He looked at Paul. “We’ll discuss details another time.” He looked back round the table. “Be off with you, you load of miscreants.” He banged the gavel which preceded a significant rise in the volume of chatter as voices fought to be heard over the scraping of chairs and the tramping of boots.
Paul had half risen out of his seat when Jimmy’s low voice cut through the melee. “Paul. You got a minute for us?”
Neither Jimmy nor Giles had risen from their seats. With a nod to Rabbit’s questioning look, Paul resumed his. Rabbit nodded back and, as the last person to leave the room, closed the doors behind him.
Jimmy waited. Paul wasn’t sure what he was waiting for; everyone had gone, but he heard the ticking of the clock on the wall as it counted out the seconds in the near silence. Eventually, whatever stars Jimmy was waiting on to align slid into place.
“Brother, you’ve been a part of this club a long time. You’ve shed blood for us, and you’ve spilt it in the name of the club, more than most. I’ve got a big ask for you now, son.”
“What do you need?”
“It’s good that you want to patch over to the Priests. That’s good. That’s gonna gain you a lotta trust.”
Jimmy’s cryptic reasoning made Paul uneasy; it wasn’t helped by Giles’ continued silence. He looked between the two men who were staring intently at him.
“What’s up, boss?”
“We need you to do one last job for us, but it won’t be as a Rabid. Once you’re in the fold, we need you to take out Samuel.”
The first thing that Paul understood as he recovered the ability to think through the shock was that if he refused this request he would not see another sunrise. No matter what he promised, Jimmy and Giles would not let him live after revealing their play like this if he wasn’t on board. The second was that it was a bizarre request, the Rabids and the Priests had always had a healthy relationship.
“Can you tell me what’s goin’ on that you need me to do this?” Paul asked. Jimmy and Giles shared a look. It was Giles who spoke
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