home?" Jersey asked.
Thrash nodded. "Just came in for a bump of diesel to get me back on the road. You got?"
Jersey nodded and put his arm over Thrash's wide shoulders.
"Yeah, I’m on my way back too. That crazy bitch wasn't worth my time - had all the crazy I needed back home. Let's do some lines and get in the wind."
The clubhouse was packed and Thrash was greeted by many. He was stuck there for a few hours and waited on doing his speed. Too many brothers were complaining about Rabid. He couldn't say much, but he noted who was pissed. Luckily, he was even able to get some sleep.
Jersey woke him a few hours later with coffee and a few lines.
"Let’s move, man. Rabid isn't liked here and you're one of his boys. The brothers like you but I'd feel better on the road. Fuckin' Rabid took some of the girls these guys liked and sent them to other chapters. You in with that shit?"
Thrash looked at Jersey and muttered, "Fucking Rabid is all over the place, stirring up shit. No, I’m not good with any of it."
"Bro, there's a lotta' talk going down at every clubhouse I've been to lately about removing him. Better make it known you aren't one of his 'BOYS' anymore. Your brother made it known that he and Nailz are ready to step in and they got a lot of backing. You with them?"
Thrash nodded his head. Shit! What the hell were Nailz and V doing? This talking shit could get them all killed.
"Jersey, spread it around to the loyal brothers. It's happening but I need to talk to Nailz and some of the others. Don't let anybody you aren't sure of know shit. I gotta speak to Levi a minute then we can head out," Thrash gulped down his coffee.
Levi was the Delaware president. Thrash was already aware he hated Rabid, so he told him that there was a take-down in the works and promised he’d keep him in the loop.
Jersey met him outside, a big man with flowing hair he kept in a long braid. He was tattooed, had a hard body, and loved to fight. Women loved him. All he wanted was a good old lady - he was one of the few who wanted to settle down.
He had stepped down as a SAA when Rabid had become president. Jersey refused to be called one of Rabid's 'boys'. Rabid was always saying he should have his patch pulled, but nobody wanted to fuck with Jersey. He could blow your balls off easily and then continue to eat his sandwich.
Thrash was glad to have Jersey to ride with. It was always better to be riding with a brother, plus it was safer.
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Thrash was riding hard, thinking.
His brother was powerful, Nailz, too, but would they be able to pull off this take down without repercussions? Thrash wanted to stay alive and keep as many loyal brothers alive as he could. He really wanted to ambush Rabid. He didn't think there was another, more reasonable way to be rid of him and his 'BOYS'. Selling women and forcing them into prostitution wasn't what the club was about. Yeah, they were doing illegal shit, but Rabid was going overboard.
At a rest stop, Thrash mentioned to Jersey that the best way to take care of the problem was to ambush Rabid, and he agreed. But, they also knew that other members in the club wanted to stomp him. Killing him was better for everyone. Merely pulling his colors wouldn't stop the bastard. Every bro was aware Jersey would love to end Rabid.
Thrash sighed with relief as they coasted into the lot of the clubhouse. Home at last!
Jersey would be happy too. Hell, the ladies - if you could call them that - loved this brother. He was loved by women and clearly loved them back; it came naturally to the bastard. Not that Thrash had problems getting women. He had more after him then he wanted or needed. Now, though, it was time to find Nailz and V.
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Nailz was holding court at the bar when Jersey and Thrash strolled in. Both looked worn out from the ride back - Thrash more so as he’d been riding longer.
They nodded at each other, not sure if Flop had anyone spying on them.
"So,
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