I followed him into one of the end units, the others filing in behind us. More and more came, filling the room wall to wall.

“Glad to have you back, bro,” Bam Bam said, slapping my back. Others followed, and I was surprised that even the Devil’s Jacks took a minute to welcome me. Hadn’t realized until that moment just how much I’d missed being around my people. My family.

“So, here we are,” Pic said, calling the meeting to order. “You all know what Gage has been through these past weeks.”

“Saw the picture of the bitch you had to bang,” Hunter said. “Sounds like it was rough.”

Laughs, which I chose to ignore, echoed around the room.

“Pretty sure she has teeth lining her cunt,” I told them. “Believe me, Talia Jackson is a scary woman—don’t let the tight ass fool you. The real issue here is her brother, Marsh. We’ve all suspected for a long time now that the Reapers weren’t getting their cut from the cross-border traffic, and I’ve seen it for myself. Even if they were, though, it wouldn’t matter. The Nighthawks are falling apart as a club. Dysfunctional as hell. If they were paying, we’d still have to step in at this point, because the whole situation’s a fucking time bomb. Not only that, the club’s out of control. Marsh brought in nothing but useless pieces of shit and now we have to somehow salvage the situation or we’ll lose control of the territory.”

Hunter’s face turned serious.

“How’d that happen?” he asked.

“Most of the leadership and the old guard went down in a raid, all at the same time,” Picnic said. “Most of them are still serving time. Marsh stepped into the power vacuum. We probably should’ve shut it down then, but we had no idea how toxic he was at that point, and they were holding up their end of the bargain.”

“There are a few who’ve gotten out since then,” I added. “Four of them—Cord seems to be their leader. Wish I could tell you more, but they wouldn’t give me the time of day, given that I’m one of Marsh’s scabs, at least in their eyes.”

“And none of them went down this weekend?” Hunter asked.

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“Nope,” I said. “I haven’t seen any of them since earlier in the week. They didn’t go out with us on Friday night and missed his little rampage. He kept us all in the clubhouse that night, asking questions and looking for traitors. Full-on paranoia. I don’t know where they are, but they weren’t with him.”

“They’re out at the clubhouse right now,” Picnic said. “Waiting to talk to us about what happened. Cord got in touch as soon as he heard the news. Sounds to me like they want to fix things, make it right. You think that’s possible?”

I considered the question carefully, weighing our options.

“Tough call,” I finally admitted. “If I knew Cord better, I’d have a better answer for you. I don’t think that he’s an enemy to the Reapers. I think he was outnumbered, so he waited for his moment. There’s still a lot of brothers on the inside, brothers who are good men. They’re the real Nighthawks, not Marsh and his crew.”

“So we let him step in?” Pic asked.

“I can’t answer that,” I said. “I wish I had a sense of the man personally, but I don’t. All I know is he hates Marsh.”

“He was a strong brother in the past,” Bam Bam said. “I’ve ridden with him a few times. Kept his shit tight, not the kind to talk much, but I’d have him at my back in a fight. Impossible situation, when your own president doesn’t do what’s right. I mean, he rats out Marsh, he’s betraying his own brother. He doesn’t, he’s betrayed the Reapers. If it were me, I’d probably watch and wait, too.”

“Good point,” Pic acknowledged. “Anyone else here want to speak for him or the others?”

“Pipes is a good man,” Ruger said. “He’s the Nighthawk who stood with Painter and Puck down in California while they were in prison. Still down there, and they’ll be sending Painter back to join him once his parole’s revoked. Painter told me that Cord was one of the few who made to effort to visit Pipes. We make peace with Cord, that could save Painter’s life on the inside.”

“That’s reason enough right there,” I said. “We have any contact with the other Nighthawks inside?”

“Some,” Pic said. “But Cord would have more. If we can salvage something of the situation, that’s for the best. Otherwise it leaves us with another power vacuum in the middle of the state. Then we’d have to move men into the area.”

“You’ll need to move someone into the area no matter what,” Hunter said, frowning. “Just because you’re giving him a shot doesn’t mean we can trust him.”

“I’ll stay,” I told them. The men around me stirred, although I saw Horse grinning. Smug fucker.

“You’ve already given up a lot,” Bam Bam said. “You sure you want to do that?”

“It works for me,” I said, although I’d be damned if I’d discuss the whole Tinker situation with such a large audience.

“What if we patched them over?” Ruger asked suddenly.

“The Nighthawks?” Hunter asked. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Not all of them,” Ruger said. “But we know Pipes is solid—he put his life on the line more than once for Painter on the inside. And Cord is solid with him. Until Marsh took over, we never had problem with them, and they aren’t Marsh’s people. What we have here is a good support club that got infected by a cancer. Cut out the cancer, we get the club back.”

“But to patch them over as Reapers?” Horse asked, skeptical. “That seems a little much.”

“Not right away,” Ruger said. “But we could give them a chance to redeem themselves, and take it from there. Make them provisional. It’s not a case of patching over the whole club—it’s shutting down the bad club and patching over the members worth saving. Could send a powerful message to any other support club in the area. Stay loyal and you’ll be rewarded. And despite this shit with Marsh, the bulk of the brothers stayed loyal. They’re just stuck in prison. Remember, not one of the fuckers testified against his brothers or the Reapers.”




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