7. 6 - Silence Speaks

6 - Silence Speaks

The next day, after school, Griff came tearing into the clubhouse, as his eyes sought me out. “Did you tell her?” He yelled across the room once he found me.

“Whoa, what the hell is that all about?” Spike asked as he intervened and pulled his son up short from getting to me.

“She didn’t come to school today!” Griff yelled. I put the pool stick down and walked over to him.

“Let’s take a seat and lower our voices before we talk about this, okay? Seems like some shit that a couple women we know wouldn’t want plastered all over the clubhouse walls for certain folks to hear.”

Griff’s panicked face finally took a glance around and realized there were club members but also a few women hanging around. Those women, and maybe even some club brothers, would take gossip back to town in a heartbeat.

“Everything good?” Spike asked.

I gave him a chin lift in the affirmative. “Your boy and me need to talk about some shit. You mind?”

“You sure everything is okay?” Spike finally looked nervous about something concerning his newest, though not youngest, kid.

“Swear on my life, and the brotherhood if that means more, that your kid is the best of the fucking best, man. His concern is for someone else. We’ll fill you in after we chat, if that’s alright?”

“I trust you, Walker. Just needed to know if this is where he needed me as a dad, or if…” Spike cut off whatever he’d been about to say and looked nervously toward his son.

“We’ll talk to you about everything in a few minutes, okay?” Griff asked him. Spike nodded and moved back over toward the bar where he’d been talking to Van, one of the visiting members from the Tallahassee Chapter.

“Aren’t you too old to be spawning more kids?” He asked Van as he sat down.

The Tallahassee Chapter’s VP laughed. “No more so than you, fucker. This one wasn’t planned.”

“Pretty sure none of them were,” Spike teased him as Griff and I walked away.

“You told her, didn’t you?”

“That’s what you wanted me to do, remember?”

“Yeah, but…” He blew out a frustrated breath. “She wasn’t at school today, so I don’t know how that shit went down. What if she ran away? What if she tried to hurt herself?”

“That something you think she’d do?”

He shook his head slowly. “Don’t think so, but my mind has been racing with possibilities all day.”

“I get that. Her momma handled the news well.”

“So, she really did know already?”

“Nope. Had no clue. I said she handled it well, not that she wasn’t shocked. We talked through a few things, none of which are your business. What Reesa and I talked about stays between us; you hear?”

“Yeah, I get that. Your loyalty is to her.”

“Nah. My loyalty is always to you first. You’re club family, Griff. That’s what it means. If her story had any bearing on you personally, I’d give it to you straight. Fact is, it doesn’t. If her girl wants to give up the conversation she had with her mom next time she sees you, then that’s her story to tell and you get that information then.”

“Ariel," He corrected me.

I nodded and showed some respect for the girl I knew he liked. “Ariel is going to be just fine, Griff.”

“How do you know?”

“I know because she has one hell of a momma at her back and a damn good friend in you when she’s ready to talk. From the looks of things at the store, she wouldn’t mind making that friendship something more.” I gave him a wink and watched as the poor boy blushed. I didn’t even know what it felt like to blush anymore. I hoped like hell he was able to hang onto a little bit of that innocence a while longer. Life had a way of jading people pretty quickly and I didn’t want that for my club brother’s son. He already had a rough enough start at things.

“Let’s get back to your dad before he has an aneurism wondering why you tore into the clubhouse like your ass was on fire.”

“Did not,” Griff argued back.

“Fuckin’ did, kid. ‘Bout gave us all a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” Griff mumbled as we both turned to head back out to the common area. When we did, Sweet and Quickshot were both standing there in the doorway to the office. It was clear they had overheard everything, and when Sweet crooked his finger, I knew there would be questions.

“Head on back out to your old man, kid. I’ll be along in a minute. Need to have a chat with Prez.”

“Is everything okay? I didn’t get you in trouble, did I?” Griff asked. The kid knew that my relationship with most of my club brothers had been damaged years ago, but I wasn’t sure if he knew the details. At any rate, he knew it was my fault and now the kid was tuggin’ my fuckin’ heart strings, thinking he caused me trouble.

“Nah, man. All good.”

He refused to take my word for it.

“Walker’s not in trouble, kid. We have club business to discuss, just wanted to grab him before he had a chance to wander off again.”

Griff narrowed his eyes on Sweet. “He was just out there playing pool before.”

“We weren’t finished with our meeting then, Griff. Go out with your dad, now.” Quickshot ordered in an easy manner that said he wasn’t mad the kid was looking out for me, but he wasn’t going to take no for an answer either.

I nodded and Griff finally took off toward the common area, but he made sure to look back and check on me a couple times before he turned out of sight. I chuckled at the thought of a teenage boy looking out for me. I turned around to see amusement on the other men’s faces as well.

“That one is going to make an excellent brother one day. Loyal to his core,” Quickshot commented.

“He’s a good kid.”

“I think Spike might beg to differ,” Sweet replied.

I turned on him then. “Nope. Not going to do that. Griff is a good one. Spike knows it too and wouldn’t thank you for speaking ill of his boy. Both of them have shit to work through because of the cards that life dealt them. You aren’t hanging that on a teenage boy’s neck to tote around.”

“Okay, we hear you,” Quickshot offered as he threw a glare toward our Prez. “Come on, best to do this in the office.”

“What’s up?” I asked as they shut the door behind me.

“Keys wanted to know what the fuck you were doing on their property last night?”

I glanced between the two men and noted Sweet with his arms folded across his chest. I didn’t think Keys was at the heart of the question, considering my Prez’s attitude toward me. So, this was how it was going to be. We were still here, where I was hemmed up by my club because of shit their women held against me. I laughed.

“You two start out fucking talking about how loyal that kid is going to be as a club member and here you are hemming up a brother because he’s somewhere your women don’t want him to be. How the fuck is that a club problem? How does that justify either of you calling me to the fucking principal’s office?”

“Watch your tone,” Sweet growled.

“Nah, I don’t think I will. I took your shit. It took me eighteen fucking months to earn my patch back the hard fucking way. Stayed clear of everyone else’s business in that time. Did my duties, remained loyal when I questioned if the same loyalty would be returned to me. Wondered what the fuck I was still doing here, wearing this kutte, when it doesn’t feel like a family anymore. It feels like I’m one of the hang arounds left dangling for attention most days, only I don’t bother to go seeking it out for validation the way they do.”

“Wait a minute,” Quickshot interrupted me.

“No, there’s no waiting on me saying what needs to be said anymore. Either you wanted me patched back in or you didn’t. I served my time for the shit I pulled. Did it with a fucking prospect patch on my back for eighteen fucking months. In case you lost count, that was six months longer than it took to earn my patch the first fucking time around.” I looked them both dead in the eye before I added, “Six months longer than you said it would take when you first stripped my patch.

“Either I earned it back or I didn’t. Let me fucking know, though, because this shit of calling me to task every time one of your women feels slighted over whatever toe they feel I put out of line is done. If you can’t treat me the same as any other fucking member of this club, then what the fuck do I have my patch back for? Last I checked, I’m not a member of the fucking S.H.E. MC. I’m a fucking member of Aces High. If they want to trespass me from their fucking property, then that’s for them to do.

“This go-between bullshit needs to fucking stop or I’m out. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of doing time for their bullshit because they think they’re above the shit they did wrong. No one took their fuckin’ patches for not having an old lady’s back. Mine was taken because I checked on her to make sure she was in a good fucking place and happy. No fucking other reason. How fucked is that?”

Sweet had his fists balled at his sides and I could damn near see the steam rising from his ears, but it was Quickshot who spoke first.

“You’re right.”

Sweet’s head snapped around. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Quickshot sighed and turned to his best friend and the president of our chapter. “Fuck, man.” He sat on the couch and leaned back so he was looking up at both of us. “Take a load off, Sweet. We need to have a conversation. In truth, it should happen without Walker here, but since he finally had the balls to call us on our bullshit, we’re going to respect him enough to talk this out with him here.”

“What he did,” Sweet stabbed a finger at me and got ready to reiterate, but Quickshot cut him off.

“What he did was a crime he paid for. Ghost, our national Prez – in case you forgot – agreed with his punishment. You agreed to the punishment. He lost his fucking patch, man. For eighteen months he took more shit than any prospect in the history of this club has ever taken, and he didn’t complain one fucking time. Not once. And really, what was his crime, huh? He checked in on his ex-wife. He tried to do it stealthily and failed like a dumbass, but that was it. I understood Chief and Smoke being pissed but even they didn’t understand why it took him eighteen months to earn the patch back. They were over their snit by then.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why the fuck aren’t you over yours?” Quickshot called him out.

“I’m not in a snit.”

“Then why are you standing there looking like your gonna pound his flesh in when the man hasn’t done shit wrong to deserve it.”

“He was at Paramour last night!” Sweet shouted, as if my mere presence there was a crime against him personally.

“And?”

“And? What the fuck do you mean by ‘And’, Quickshot?”

“And, what the fuck did he do wrong while he was there?”

“He didn’t even go inside.” Sweet said it like it was an accusation.

“What exactly were you told?” I asked.

“That you were loitering in their parking lot all fucking night and stuck around long after closing for some reason.”

“What reason?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Sweet asked.

“So, they didn’t tell you who I was there to speak with?”

“You spoke with someone?”

“Let me get this straight,” I growled. “Your woman told you I was loitering in their parking lot all night, looking like a fucking creeper no doubt, and didn’t mention at all why I was there?”

“How the fuck would she know?”

“It would be really fucking obvious why I was there based on the video from that night, considering that’s what they were most likely going off. I was parked in full view of the cameras.”

Sweet’s fists unclenched and he glanced from Quickshot back to me. “What the fuck business did you have there?”

“You overheard my conversation with Griff, yeah?” They both nodded. “Then you know I had to deliver some shit news to someone who he was worried about.”

It started to dawn on them. “The woman from the club party, the one who works at Paramour?” Quickshot asked.

“Reesa,” I agreed.

“Fuck,” Quickshot hissed. “You dating her?”

“Not yet.” He grinned at that and leaned back into the couch again.

“Right on, man. About fuckin’ time.”

“What did I miss?” Sweet asked.

“Every-fucking-thing,” Quickshot announced. “We need to go have a talk with Angel Girl.”

“Why?”

“She ain’t telling you everything. When she purposely leaves shit out of what was on security tapes to hem a brother up, that’s a problem, Sweet. If you can’t handle it because of your relationship with her, then I will step in and do it for you.” Quickshot inadvertently gave away the fact it hadn’t been Keys, as I’d thought. It was still Angel Girl trying to rain crap down on my head through her old man.

“The fuck?” Sweet asked and I could tell by his tone that he felt blindsided by his VP calling out his woman. The same woman who had been Quickshot’s close friend since they were in diapers together.

“Walker, explain why you were there last night.”

I told them what happened with Reesa and her kids when we went shopping and then what Griff had to say about why Reesa’s daughter started to behave that way. When I finally explained why I was there last night – to inform Reesa of what had been going on, so she could take care of her kid, and prepare for possible fallout from her dead husband’s former mistress, Sweet finally took a seat.

“Fuck, I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t fucking ask, either. And while we’re at it, that information is not for anyone else outside of this room. I don’t give a fuck who you stick your dick in at night. If Reesa wanted her bosses to know about her private life, she’d tell them. I only let you know because you’re about to throw me under a fucking bus for doing the right thing here. Granted, I’d rather get run the fuck over than tell her story, but there’s a bigger issue here and you needed context.”

“What’s that?”

“Your women are out of fuckin’ control. They want to place the blame on me for shit they are responsible for, and you’ve been more than happy to help them heap it all on my shoulders. I’m fucking done. This is the last time you come at me about an agenda your woman put you on. If it happens again, I’ll hand in this patch, walk out that door, and not take one fucking look back.” I turned to leave but then tossed out one final point. “If your woman isn’t happy – that’s a “you” problem. I’m not her fucking whipping boy. I’m not yours either. I’m a fucking club brother or I’m not. Make up your damn mind and let me know.”

I walked out and left them to it after that. Spike stood outside the door with Tash and Griff. “I knew it was my fault. I got my dad here and Tash too, so they could tell them.”

“I’ll handle the girls,” Tash promised.

“Not your job to handle shit that is rolling downhill from my President.”

“If they would ever just apologize to Poppy, they might see that she would accept their apologies.”

That took me aback. “I thought they did, and she ignored them.”

Tash shook her head. “Not sure about Keys, but Angel Girl never did to my knowledge. She doesn’t think she did anything wrong, since she’s President of her own club and doesn’t have time for all the old lady shit of watching over the women of Sweet’s club too. She’s angry because Leanne is disappointed in her for not having Poppy’s back though.”

“You know what? I never thought I’d ever have to say this, but I’m tired of my ex-wife’s past shit causing issues in my present-day life. I can’t even blame Poppy for this because she’s not to blame. Hell, she probably doesn’t even know about it. Angel Girl needs to get on some meds or something, because I’m over it.”

“So are a lot of other people,” Tash stated so quietly that I almost missed it. My eyebrows rose damn near to my hairline at hearing that. “I stepped down as VP because motherhood was taking up more and more of my time. JoJo was too busy, so was Keys. Legs has her own shit to deal with too. Angel filled the slot with MiMi and between the two of them-” Tash cut herself off with a shake of her head and a glance in the direction of the office I’d just vacated. “Things aren’t good.”

“Well, whatever things are going on over there, they aren’t my business, and I don’t appreciate them landing me in a new pile of shit every other week.”

“Sorry that this is still happening.” While I appreciated Tash’s apology, she wasn’t the one who owed it to me. “Thanks for looking out and helping Griff.”

“No need to thank me. Griff is cool as shit. One day, if that’s what he chooses, he’s going to make a damn good club brother.” Griff beamed at me while his father admired him with pride in his eyes. “Where’s the daredevil?”

“JoJo and Steel took him for a bit, so I could get a break and come pick up Griff, who didn’t come home on the school bus like he was supposed to.”

The tips of Griff’s ears turned red with embarrassment. “Sorry, Tash.” He muttered.

She waved him off. “You had important shit to handle, just let me know next time, so I’m not worried.”

“Yup,” Griff gave her back as he ducked his head in an attempt to hide how pleased he was to know she cared.

“Need to ride?” Spike asked me. I gave him the nod and then he turned to his son. “Come on, Tash has her bike here, you can ride bitch with me.”

“Seriously?” Griff asked.

“Said it, didn’t I?”

We walked out with Tash smiling after us. I wasn’t sure if she had shit to say to my Prez and VP because it wasn’t my fuckin’ business. If they didn’t get their priorities in order, this might be one of my last rides as a member.