Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“Waitin’ on a goddamn’ invitation?” Fox barked. It wasn’t the question it seemed.
“Get off me, old man,” Dev shot back, just as menacing.
Again, every brother’s eyes shifted toward Dev. A hush came over the room.
Fuck. Suddenly the room was boiling hot. Perspiration broke out across his forehead as he shrugged out of his hoodie, his body heated under the sudden stress. At least now, he wore his cut for everyone to see.
When Dev started for his apparent new seat, the rousing chorus of approval came from his brothers beating their fists against the table until he took his chair.
“We’re back in action,” Diesel said gruffly, knocking Dev in the arm. It felt like disingenuous praise…or not. Who knew? Regardless, he sensed the approval from the entire group. The first time in over a year they had come together to make something happen. He recognized the importance. Each piece of Cummings’s end was done with teamwork and precision. They’d acted together with tactical grace.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dev said, downplaying the appreciation, accepting the fist bumps from those who he could reach. His dad sat back in his seat, letting the creak of the chair sound off as he rocked back and forth. He watched Dev the entire time. “We did good, but I suspect we’re here to talk about other shit.”
His old man nodded and still paused before he positioned himself better in the seat to start the meeting. With force, his father banged the gavel on the table, silencing the brothers. The ricochet of wood on wood worked like a charm.
“As you all have to know by now, Ray-Ray’s old snatch has come out swinging with a vengeance, publicly denying the claims against her. The fuckin’ pictures are pretty damn straightforward. Don’t know how the bitch thinks she can spin that shit.” Fox’s hands clapped down on the table in aggravation. “Don’t know how it’s fuckin’ possible, but all eyes are on us a-fuckin-gain.”
“They made me have to move into the goddamn clubhouse,” Ray-Ray burst out. “Cops passin’ by my house. The fuckin’ media’s on my ass. They got my cell phone number.” Ray-Ray spit his disgust at the trashcan nearby. Dev narrowed his eyes. Keyes used to hate that shit. He guessed it had rubbed off on him too. At least make the spittle land inside the can.
“We had our fun, but our attorney says we gotta lay low for the next few days to see what happens.”
A round of astonished groans came in unison from his brothers. Some were more pronounced than others. But they were all growing angrier with each second that passed.
Their hands had been tied for far too long. The frustration so strong Fox lost momentary control of the rowdy group. Tank didn’t though, clapping his hands loudly together as he pushed to his feet. He came off as such a mean motherfucker. The guy wore revolvers on each hip, giving off the Wild West vibe. It wasn’t above imagination that he’d use the guns inside this room.
Luckily, it didn’t come to that.
Fox continued as if Tank weren’t standing, giving everyone the evil eye.
“In other news…” Fox let that hang, looking over at Dev. They stared at one another. Any other time, Dev would have popped off at the assessing look he got. Today, he kept his mouth shut and lifted a brow in challenge.
“Okay then.” Fox gave a shake of his head as if clearing his thoughts. “I guess we’re doin’ this. We got some decent shit comin’ our way. I’ve been holdin’ on, tryin’ to get us through the last year.” Fox glanced at Dev again then over at Diesel. Based on that glare, his brother was pissed off. “Dev’s decided to take the second position seriously. He’s officially takin’ the spot. Trainin’ to take over the club someday.”
Mack reached over the table, gripping Dev’s shoulder, squeezing hard before being grabbed from every different direction. Their pats and congratulatory fist bumps jostled him around in his seat.
He grinned, eating up the appreciation, only because Cash was watching. If he could even see Dev from this angle. He finally lifted to his feet, the love he received had to be pissing his father off. With a wave of both hands, he settled the group down far more effectively than his old man had.
“Thank you, thank you. It’s an honor.” He reached for the forty-year-old gavel as if it were some kind of coveted trophy given as a prize at an award show. “And privilege to formally accept a position that was assigned to me at birth. I can guarantee more mornin’ church meetin’s with donuts for everybody. Wait, did anyone bring donuts this mornin’? Did I miss ’em out there? It’s a celebration!”
“Sit down, Devilman,” his father barked. “Stupid shit.”
Laughter filled the space. He wasn’t sure his old man had meant the insult as a joke. Whatever, he figured Cash might agree with his father’s simple summation.