HARD KNOX(40)

I stood up, taking another defiant stance. “I’m wearing a Reaper’s Bastards cut. You’re not.”

“I’m acting President,” he said to me.

“You want to do this?”

“You want to find out about the guy that was hitting your old lady.”

I made a fist. I was ready to clock Uncle Jakey in the mouth. The son of a bitch would have taken out his gun and put a bullet in my head without thinking twice if I did that.

“I think Knox is right,” Slam said. “He’s the son of the President in prison. The former President, whatever the f*ck Hammer is. You’re a background guy, Uncle Jakey. If Knox rolls up on his motorcycle, in his cut, with his f*cking attitude and his blackmail, I think a clear message will be sent.”

“Is this what we all think?” Uncle Jakey asked as he addressed the table.

Man, we were a thin table for a full running MC. Too many empty chairs. Shit, all we needed was a case of cold beer, some room temperature whiskey, and a deck of cards and you’d never know the difference of it being a chapel meeting.

I guess you could have called it Uncle Jakey’s first vote with the gavel. Nobody gave a yay or nay, but everyone nodded in agreement.

“Fine,” Uncle Jakey said. “Ari, you ride with Knox. We always stick with two. That’s standard rule.”

“Fair enough,” I said. I looked to Ari and nodded.

He nodded back. He and I had our beefs in the past but we were tight like brothers. Fuck, what brothers didn’t throw down with some hard fists once in a while. We always joked and called it an Irish hug.

“There’s more,” Uncle Jakey said. He lifted the gavel and looked at it. Then he placed it down. “I’m not hitting this gavel on anything right now. As far as I’m concerned, you guys are nothing but crazed outlaws looking for action. Knox, you get yourself into trouble out there and I won’t back you up. Hear that loud. You’re going to kick up dust for some old *, that’s your deal.”

“I can live with that,” I said. “But this goes beyond Ana. Way beyond Ana.”

“Sure,” Uncle Jakey said. “I’m going to go to the titty bar. Find some chick with the saddest, deadest eyes ever. Then I’m going to blow bubbles into her tits until I turn purple.”

That’s how chapel came to an end.

The door shut after Uncle Jakey left.

“Our leader,” I said with a grin.

“It’s not the worst way to spend your day,” Elijah said. “You could be King. Sitting in a cell, waiting for your last day.”

“King,” I whispered.

Damn, like I needed that little ping to heart.

I glanced at Ari again and he gave another nod.

It was time to ride.

My entire future hung in the balance.





twenty-four



(knox)



THEN



“I’m good,” Hammer said and pushed away the white mountain of coke.

“Suit. Yourself.”

A guy named Larry Tool was wide eyed and smiling as his took another snort of his own stuff. He told me he could sell it for days because all he needed were his customers to see how he reacted to taking it.

Larry turned to me and I denied the offer.

I was sitting at a round table with some of the Reap, a lot of Larry’s crew, and a potential customer. The customer was a group of men looking to move Larry’s magical powder into a more southern region and they needed our help to make sure it got there safely. That meant making sure the local PD was on board with the move, and it meant to have a line of protection from other crews, MCs, and gangs along the way.

Hammer was the best at it. I got to learn from the best. And I came from the best.

The old man folded his hands and said, “We can get this going anytime you’re ready.”

“Ah, Hammer,” Larry said. He grabbed the old man’s shoulder. “I f*cking love you. If you had a set of tits and a slit, I’d f*ck you.”

“Good to know,” the old man said. He looked at me.

Now it was my turn to shine. “We’ve got a route that’s not normally used. It’ll take a little more time but we’ve got it covered. We have two groups of our guys go on a ride. One is a diversion. One is your protection. The diversion is going to stir up some trouble, keeping all eyes on them. The shipment will be moved in regular old piece of shit cars, trucks, whatever. A little in each. So nothing brings attention.”

“You think of this, kiddo?” Larry asked.

I f*cking hated being called kid or kiddo. Unless it was my father calling me that.

“I did,” I said.

“Good for you.” Larry then pointed across the table. “Now these f*cks owe me some cash. Pay up!”

That’s when things started to take a turn.

The customer was led by a guy named Will. His right hand man was Artie and he had a big mouth.

“So they call you tool man,” Artie said. “Heard you have other names.”

“We’re here to discuss business,” my old man said. “Leave the chit-chat for the bar.”

“You owe a hundred grand, Will,” Larry said.

“That I do. That I intend to pay. When my shipment arrives.”