Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)(32)

He pushed off his bike and glowered at a prospect who was milling about. “What do you think you’re doing, f*cktard?” he snapped. “You want to get a patch, you don’t f*ckin’ stand around with your finger up your ass. Make yourself f*ckin’ useful!” he bellowed, and the prospect paled.

He didn’t wait to see what he did; he had church.

He saw, once he made it to the room that had become his place of worship, he was the last to arrive. The look on his brothers’ faces communicated that this was a rare occurrence. He ignored this. His glower stayed in place, although he gave a chin lift to Cade.

Cade nodded back. “Brother,” he greeted.

Bull took his place at his left. Brock was at his right, Steg beside him. Steg had stepped down as president after being shot; considering the fact he almost died, he was in no state to ride for months. Not being able to ride meant not being able to rule. Cade had stepped up. It had been almost two years since, and Cade had continued to be president even after Steg had recovered. Bull had half expected that to turn sour, considering the bad blood brewing between them before. But for some reason it hadn’t. Steg seemed content, and the club was running well under Cade’s rule. Running legit.

“Now that we’re all here, we need to get straight to business,” Cade addressed the room. “We all know that another club over in Hope has been testing our boundaries, looking to extend their patch.” He paused, leaning forward to clasp his hands together. “Up until now they’ve been nothing but a vague annoyance, one that is easily ignored.” He stopped again, looking around the table. “Unfortunately, they have upgraded themselves to a pain in my ass. Not only does it seem like they’re recruiting solely to gain numbers, which is worrying in itself, it seems the f*ckers have been trying to push product within our town,” he declared tightly.

Bull’s fists clenched. Even though the Sons were legit, or as legit as they could be, that did not mean other clubs could get away with shit. It was known, widely f*ckin’ known within all MCs, that the Sons did not tolerate drugs being sold in Amber. It was a policy strictly enforced throughout the years. To do so, especially by another MC, was tantamount to a declaration of war.

“You’re f*ckin’ shitting me,” Asher bit out from down the table.

Lucky shook his head. “Got word a couple of hours ago. Their patch was seen doing a deal at the lumber yard.” He flexed his knuckles. “Had a... conversation with the foreman. It seems his workers have been purchasing product for f*ckin’ weeks.”

There were hisses around the table. This was an ultimate disrespect. The club may not run guns anymore, but they were not to be f*cked with.

“We’re not letting this shit stand,” Brock said evenly.

“Too f*ckin’ right we’re not,” Steg added roughly. “This pissant club is going to regret the day they put on their cuts. You do not f*ck with us.”

Nods around the table.

“Steg’s right,” Cade said, his face blank. “Goes without saying we gotta play this smart. ATF may not be up our asses anymore, but we’re still on their Christmas card list. No to mention that f*cker Crawford would love to get us locked up over unpaid parking tickets, if he could.” Cade looked around once more, his eyes settling on Bull. “We’re doing this smart,” he repeated. “But we’ll make sure these f*ckers get the message.”

With that declaration, they discussed strategies and plans. Once that was done, Cade dismissed his brothers. Bull stood to leave; he would never say it out loud, but he was almost happy this shit was going down. He needed it. Needed to pummel out his anger on these pissants. He needed to focus on something other than a blonde with a sweet cunt.

“Bull,” Cade called before he could leave. “A word,” he requested.

Bull nodded and moved back to his seat as the boys filtered out.

Cade stared at him once the room had emptied. Bull didn’t say anything. Cade was used to it. He didn’t speak when he didn’t have to. Mostly because he was focusing on the shit inside his head. On the demons. Those f*ckers were quiet at the moment, but they were still there, waiting.

“You good, brother?” Cade started, watching him.

Bull nodded. “I’ll be better when I get to teach those bastards a lesson,” he said, referring to the mission.

Cade nodded distractedly. “Yeah well, they’ll get taught.” He paused. “I’m talking about you nearly rearranging Lucky’s face yesterday.”

Bull stiffened. He said nothing.

“You want to tell me what that was about?” Cade asked evenly.

“Nothing,” Bull bit out.

Cade regarded him. “So it wasn’t about Mia?”

Bull’s fists clenched. He didn’t need her name spoken here. Not in this room.

“All due respect, Prez, you don’t know what the f*ck you’re talking about and I’d appreciate if you don’t say her name again,” he ground out.

Cade’s eyes flared slightly, but otherwise he didn’t react. “Not looking to get my face rearranged either, brother, just looking out for you,” he said carefully. “She’s nice. Her kid too. It’s okay, you know, to move on...”

Bull pushed out of his chair. “This conversation is done,” he grunted, having to hold himself back from grasping his president and his best friend by the collar.