had to get inside. He couldn’t stand out here forever. As a board member, he had to be at every meeting.
But apparently he’d waited just long enough.
The telltale roar of Bumper’s motorcycle approached. Bumper pulled through the open barbed wire gate into the lot and reversed into a spot. Of course, being Bump, he didn’t stop until he bounced his rear tire off the curb.
Zag just shook his head.
Finally, Bump killed the engine and jumped off his bike. He crashed into Zag and tried to cover his lack of grace with a one-armed hug.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” Zag took a step back from his friend. If Bump was going to trip over his own feet—again—Zag didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire.
“You tell me, you’re the board member. Why’d Reb call a meeting? We already had one this month.”
Zag jerked his head to the side, then walked to the edge of the parking lot farthest from the front door and waited for Bump to catch up. “Yeah, well, things have gone kinda tits-up.”
“No shit? Who’s the fuckup this time?”
“Preacher.”
Zag didn’t really need to say anything else. Although Preach had been a long-serving member of the club—hell, he was one of the few recruits who’d been in the trenches with their president, Rebel, back in the day—things hadn’t been going well for Preacher for a while. This would make his second felony arrest.
“Fuck!” Bumper kicked his boot at a fence post, leaving a black smear behind.
Zag jerked his chin in a nod. He’d known the news wouldn’t be welcome for most of the members. Preacher had been an unofficial older brother for most of the guys—the one they’d gone to for advice on women and True Brothers. But he knew the news would hit Bumper especially hard. Preacher—back when he wasn’t all fucked up from drugs—had been Bumper’s sponsor, the one who convinced him to join the club. For the longest time they’d been closer than most True Brothers in the club. Until recently. But then Preacher hadn’t been exactly close to anyone for the past year or so.
“Dammit.” Bump looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was hoping you were gonna say someone—anyone—else. What did he do?”
“He was arrested. Selling drugs. To Saddletramps.”
“What? No way in hell. He wouldn’t be caught within ten feet of a Saddletramp unless he was kicking their asses.”
“He was with them. Selling to them. It’s bad, man. I’m sorry.”
Bump shook his head like he wasn’t believing what he was hearing. “So are we bailing him out?”
“No, we’re meeting tonight to vote on his membership.”
“That’s bullshit. What happened to the brotherhood? He gets scooped up, we bail him out. That’s what we do. I thought that’s why we pay dues every fucking month. How did it go from brothers to kicking him out?”
“Not everyone agrees.” Zag took a breath and debated whether to tell Bump about the talk some of the board members had last week. Technically, it was board info only, but he had to make Bump understand. “There was some discussion after the meeting last week. Some of the guys don’t think Preacher is True Brother material anymore. And given the details of his latest arrest—”
“That’s a bunch of bullshit,” Bump cut in. “Preacher is a Brother—he’s family. You don’t vote on family. What the hell are you guys thinking?”
“But with his history plus this latest with the Saddletramps—”
“No. I don’t believe it. Not with a fucking Saddletramp. No way.”
“He was with them, Bump. I saw it with my own eyes.”
At the news, Bumper seemed to deflate in front of Zag. The fight went out of him and he kind of sagged. It tore Zag up inside to be the one doing this to his buddy. But better now than in front of all their brothers in the middle of the meeting. Didn’t make it any easier, though. Fucking Preacher.
The vice president, Axle, walked around the corner and lifted a hand. “You ready?”
Zag
But apparently he’d waited just long enough.
The telltale roar of Bumper’s motorcycle approached. Bumper pulled through the open barbed wire gate into the lot and reversed into a spot. Of course, being Bump, he didn’t stop until he bounced his rear tire off the curb.
Zag just shook his head.
Finally, Bump killed the engine and jumped off his bike. He crashed into Zag and tried to cover his lack of grace with a one-armed hug.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” Zag took a step back from his friend. If Bump was going to trip over his own feet—again—Zag didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire.
“You tell me, you’re the board member. Why’d Reb call a meeting? We already had one this month.”
Zag jerked his head to the side, then walked to the edge of the parking lot farthest from the front door and waited for Bump to catch up. “Yeah, well, things have gone kinda tits-up.”
“No shit? Who’s the fuckup this time?”
“Preacher.”
Zag didn’t really need to say anything else. Although Preach had been a long-serving member of the club—hell, he was one of the few recruits who’d been in the trenches with their president, Rebel, back in the day—things hadn’t been going well for Preacher for a while. This would make his second felony arrest.
“Fuck!” Bumper kicked his boot at a fence post, leaving a black smear behind.
Zag jerked his chin in a nod. He’d known the news wouldn’t be welcome for most of the members. Preacher had been an unofficial older brother for most of the guys—the one they’d gone to for advice on women and True Brothers. But he knew the news would hit Bumper especially hard. Preacher—back when he wasn’t all fucked up from drugs—had been Bumper’s sponsor, the one who convinced him to join the club. For the longest time they’d been closer than most True Brothers in the club. Until recently. But then Preacher hadn’t been exactly close to anyone for the past year or so.
“Dammit.” Bump looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was hoping you were gonna say someone—anyone—else. What did he do?”
“He was arrested. Selling drugs. To Saddletramps.”
“What? No way in hell. He wouldn’t be caught within ten feet of a Saddletramp unless he was kicking their asses.”
“He was with them. Selling to them. It’s bad, man. I’m sorry.”
Bump shook his head like he wasn’t believing what he was hearing. “So are we bailing him out?”
“No, we’re meeting tonight to vote on his membership.”
“That’s bullshit. What happened to the brotherhood? He gets scooped up, we bail him out. That’s what we do. I thought that’s why we pay dues every fucking month. How did it go from brothers to kicking him out?”
“Not everyone agrees.” Zag took a breath and debated whether to tell Bump about the talk some of the board members had last week. Technically, it was board info only, but he had to make Bump understand. “There was some discussion after the meeting last week. Some of the guys don’t think Preacher is True Brother material anymore. And given the details of his latest arrest—”
“That’s a bunch of bullshit,” Bump cut in. “Preacher is a Brother—he’s family. You don’t vote on family. What the hell are you guys thinking?”
“But with his history plus this latest with the Saddletramps—”
“No. I don’t believe it. Not with a fucking Saddletramp. No way.”
“He was with them, Bump. I saw it with my own eyes.”
At the news, Bumper seemed to deflate in front of Zag. The fight went out of him and he kind of sagged. It tore Zag up inside to be the one doing this to his buddy. But better now than in front of all their brothers in the middle of the meeting. Didn’t make it any easier, though. Fucking Preacher.
The vice president, Axle, walked around the corner and lifted a hand. “You ready?”
Zag
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