Chapter Fourteen

BISHOP

"All right, sit down," I called, banging my gavel on the worn, wooden table.

Hawk sat to my right, Blue and Cain to my left, and my sergeants surrounded me while the rest of my men took their seats at the table.

Nothing compared to the energy that filled the room when we were together or the honor I felt every time I sat in front of these men.

They voted me into this position, and I'd never taken that lightly, completely aware they trusted me to lead them and the club into the future. Everything I did was to make sure my club thrived into its next generation, and that my men and their families had everything they needed.

I owed the club that much, given they were the reason I was still alive.

That day was one of the only times I asked them to stand by a choice I'd made out of pure selfishness.

The room quieted quickly, and I nodded to Blue.

He pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "I think all of you at this point know Rafe," he announced, a wave of bobbing heads moving around the room. Blue had done what I told him and spent the past week making sure every club member had some kind of introduction and interaction with the kid so they could all have solid grounds for their vote. "Bishop gave me permission to put him forward to start prospecting. I'm gonna sponsor him, and you can trust that Rafe is all in when it comes to the club. He wants this family. He needs it."

A soft chatter filled the room, and I let the men talk among themselves for a few minutes before banging the gavel again to bring the room to silence. "I'm behind this decision. I've spoken with Rafe about what is expected of him and believe he could be a great brother if given the chance. Majority rules on this decision. Yays?"

A collective yay filled the small room, and while I already knew the answer, I called for objections anyway.

"Nays?"

Silence.

"Yays have it." I banged the gavel, the sound lighting up my brother's face. "Blue, get a cut and some patches sorted and bring the kid in tomorrow."

Blue grinned as he fell back into his seat. "Fuck yes, Prez."

He was relieved.

Rafe wasn't the first teen Blue had taken under his wing—Cash patched in under Blue a couple of years ago—and I doubted he would be the last.

Both Blue and I were affected by Rook's decision to do the same for us, to bring us into a fold that had no obligation to accept us. But the club did. It changed the direction of our lives and gave us something we'd never had before.

Purpose.

"Before you all head out, there's something else I need to make everyone aware of," I announced, even though I was sure the word had already spread through the clubhouse. These men were worse than gossiping old women at bingo some days, but I had to make sure they all heard it from me. "Shay came across Alice Hersh in the hospital and managed to get her away from the guy who had her. Unfortunately, that guy ended up being Vince Martelli. To say Vince was upset is an understatement, and his men went after Shay, shooting up her and Calli's apartment."

I curled my hands into fists and rolled my shoulders back, fighting the anger settling in my muscles.

"Yesterday, I went and spoke with Frank, letting him know the situation, and when he said there was nothing he could do, I took matters into my own hands to make sure Shay was protected. I claimed her as my Old Lady."

Trigg leaned forward, his hand in the air.

"Go ahead," I acknowledged.

"So, I'm going to assume that means you told him that, but you and Shay aren't actually together?"

Technically, no.

And I couldn't explain how pissed off I was having to admit that.

"As far as anyone outside this room is concerned, Shay is my Old Lady."

Hawk tapped his finger on the table. "You expecting any blowback from Vince? Frank didn't seem all that confident in his son's choices as of late, and I'm wondering just how capable he'll be of controlling the little bastard."

It was something that had been playing on my mind.

Frank Martelli had an army. Many men under him willing to die for that family and its name. Vince, no matter how psychotic, was a part of that family, too, and he had some control over those men.

Hell, he somehow managed to make Shay and Calli's apartment target practice while he was being processed at the police station.

How?

Probably a dirty cop making the call for him. This shit ran deep.

"Frank promised no retribution. He knows that any attack on Shay would mean me coming after that fucking little shithead son of his."

"Not just you," Cain countered. "He comes after Shay, he comes after the club."

A hum of agreement moved around the table, and I'd never in my life felt so fucking humble. These men cared about Shay. She'd been in our lives for a few years now. But above that, they were willing to back me, no questions asked.

"Let's hope it doesn't get to that," I answered with a sharp nod. "For now, Match, I need some tracking on Shay's phone."

"Done," he answered instantly.

"And for everyone, just keep your eyes and ears open. Let me know if you notice anything strange. Now, are there any other matters?"

Silence.

"Excellent." I hammered the gavel. "Dismissed."

Hawk fell into step with me as I followed my men out of church and down the hall. "How's Shay doing with all this?"

"Better," I answered, instantly knowing it didn't sound convincing. "Actually, she's struggling. Not sure she got much sleep last night, if any."

Arriving at Calli and Shay's place the previous day continued to replay in my mind—the moment we pulled up to the apartment, and I saw the side of the building riddled with bullet holes.

All I could do was stand there, thinking about how close I might have come to losing her.

Each step I took up the stairs and down the hallway to that apartment felt like a knife in my fucking chest, knowing if she'd been in that apartment, I wouldn't have even blinked at showing up at Frank Martelli's golf game and having a whole separate conversation with him. One where I let him know, without any apprehension, that I was going to kill his fucking son for what he'd done.

If Vince had hurt Shay, I would have started a war.

And yet, even though every fucking moment between us was lingering longer, I was still holding back.

"You should take her into Brawlers to train with Rafe," Hawk suggested as we strolled into the bar area. "I saw him working with some of the younger kids last week. He's good with them… patient. Maybe it would make Shay feel a little better to take some power back."

"Honestly, it's not such a bad idea," I agreed, pausing beside the sofa where Shay was out like a light, her hair splayed around her head like a halo. "She's always throwing herself into dangerous situations. Maybe if she actually knew what the fuck she was doing, she might not get so damn hurt."

Hawk chuckled, heading for the bar. "Sorry," he said, but with a grin. "It's just, I haven't seen you so frustrated by a woman since Lucy offered to teach those classes at the prison."

"Fucking hell," I cursed, rolling my eyes but following him. I pulled up a stool while Hawk flipped the cap off a beer. "The woman really thought those bastards were into arts and crafts, but they were just going to the damn class so they had something to think about later when they were jacking off."

"But she did it anyway 'cause she always put herself second and everyone else first," Hawk stated with a heavy sigh, sliding me the drink.

My hands gripped the beer. "She and Shay have that in common."

"Maybe it's the sign of the perfect Old Lady for a president." Goddamn this bastard.

"You got something to say, VP, just say it," I grumbled.

Hawk didn't hold back. He never did. "You're making a mistake if you don't admit to yourself soon how you really fucking feel."

I raised one brow. "And Calli?"

"Calli will get over it."

I choked out a laugh. "You done with the words of wisdom?"

Hawk's smug grin got a little wider. "Yeah, Prez. I'm done."

Like I said before, I didn't run my club like my word was law.

My men were welcome to share their opinions.

But at times like those, I wished they would keep them to themselves.