Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I had lost the girl, and my career. It was a hard spot to be in for a man like me.
Until it wasn’t.
I learned I could have brotherhood without the uniforms, duty stations, and boots. I learned I had a life without hearing the birds chirp like before. Losing my hearing didn’t have to define me. I learned I had a place without the Army.
While I didn’t hear like I used to I could still lead. That was the gift the Kings gave me.
My Army mentor retired before the deployment that robbed me. He had found his place with the Kings of Anarchy MC down in Alabama. When I got out, he was my first phone call. He gave me a place to stay and rebuild my life. Being there in his world, I learned about club life. I learned what brotherhood meant when combat wasn’t on the forefront. The Kings gave me a freedom I never had in the service. I did my time, earned my rockers.
When the need to move back to Florence, South Carolina arose eight years ago, I took the opportunity to have a meet with the National Chapter in California. Big Daddy was hesitant to give me my own charter being new and not having held an officer position down in Bama. The Alabama club took my back, though, and my officers gave Big Daddy their word to support me. If I didn’t have to be here for my daughter, I would have stayed in Bama, but life was life. I didn’t want to give up the brotherhood, but my daughter was in a situation where she needed me like never before. Her step-dad died from pancreatic cancer. It happened rapidly, he was diagnosed and poof a month later he was gone. Elaina’s mom was overcome by grief. My daughter and her mother were hurting. Elaina needed embracing and support from everyone in her life. I wouldn’t let her down. All in all, it worked out and I built this club from the ground up.
Being here, at the head of this table, meant everything to me.
Order.
Discipline.
Leadership.
Loyalty.
Brotherhood.
Everything the Army gave me along with so much more.
I banged the gavel down on the long oak table just once. The solid thud resounding through the room silencing the little bit of chatter remaining.
“Church is called to order,” I began.
All of the patched members were in attendance, their expressions relaxed but aware. With DK to my right as my VP, and Bender to my left as secretary, we studied the room. A simple glance around to make sure everyone was indeed accounted for.
Pinky took his spot back at the far end of the table, leaned back with a cocky smirk, fresh out of lock up like he never missed a moment. Sweeper scratched at his beard, eyes scanning every corner like he was calculating two moves ahead of the rest of us. The old timer came here for retirement but missed having shit to do, his words not mine. He found his place with us and I was grateful for his wisdom.
Tiny sat three seats down to my right, arms crossed over his mammoth chest, waiting for his turn to speak. The man had the patience of a predator. He never made a single move until it was the exact time to strike.
I gave a nod to all the men and leaned forward. “Old business,” I introduced looking to Bender for him to take over.
“Gun deal in Savannah went off without a hitch,” he began while giving Crank, our club’s unofficial supply and logistics manager, a nod. “Crank turned in the funds in full,” Bender explained. “Revenue is with K-9 being washed and each member will see his share at the end of the month.”
Crank cleared his throat, “ride went down easy, transfer was clean. Buyer was on time, payment in full with a ten percent down for his next order. Crates were moved in six minutes, twelve seconds with no tails, no heat, and no second thoughts.”
I raised an eyebrow, “any word from Locke? He wanted those guns, but he had his cash together too late. Can we strike a deal for him now?” I turned back to Crank, “can we get more in from Chux in Alabama to cover an order for Locke’s crew?”
Crank nodded. “Supply chain is clear again. Last word came in this morning from Chux direct, port is open.”
Chux is the current Alabama Kings President. They run the largest port in the gulf. It was the perfect spot to import and export guns, drugs, or whatever we needed.
“Locke sent word, he’s good for it. Ready when we are.” This came from K-9, our club treasurer.
“Good,” I replied tapping a finger on the wooden table. “Locke’s been a man of his word. Long as he plays straight, we’ll keep feeding him whatever he needs.”