Page 17 of Rome
The door was open, and I walked in to find Cowboy seated in one of the two chairs in front of King’s desk, and Trick leaning against the wall near the door with arms crossed over his massive chest. None of the three men looked happy.
King motioned me to sit in the chair next to Cowboy, while Saint took up position – somewhat nervously – next to Trick along the wall.
“All right, Saint, start from the beginning and tell us what the hell happened tonight.” King’s voice was gruff as he eyeballed Saint in a way that left no doubt that he expected nothing less than the complete, unvarnished truth.
I was impressed when Saint straightened to his full height and met King’s gaze without flinching. “Here’s the deal, Prez. That Tammy chick came in asking for Pic. He must have been expecting her, because Lacey said he came down the hall to greet her as Lacey was leading her back to his suite.” King and Cowboy exchanged glances as Saint continued talking.
“Maybe ten minutes later, Bingo came in. Told Lacey he was there to meet Tammy. I had just finished walking my client out, and recognized Bingo from that party we had when the River Rats came to town last year. I knew Tammy was his Ol’ Lady, so I figured it was fine if he went on back there with them.” Saint rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, looking nervous at this admission. “I’m sorry, Prez. If I’d known what was going on, I never woulda sent him back there unannounced.”
King just waved off Saint’s apology. “That’s not on you, brother. Continue.”
“Well, I was sitting in the lobby shootin’ the shit with Lacey, waiting for walk-ins, when we heard hollerin’ coming from the back, then a huge crash. I grabbed the shotgun and ran down the hall. I heard the bitch yell somethin’ about Bingo trackin’ her phone.” He glanced at me then, and I nodded for him to continue.
“I looked in the doorway and saw Bingo and Pic goin’ at it. There was shit all over the floor, and the bitch almost plowed me over trying to run out of there.” I shook my head at the look of outrage Saint sported, as if having a woman crash into him was the biggest affront of the evening.
“I saw Bingo pull his blade, and I cocked the shotgun just as that sonofabitch took a swipe at Pic. Caught him along his ribs. Bingo pushed past me and took off out the front door. I thought about chasin’ him down, but I wasn’t sure how bad Pic was hurt, so I stayed to check on him. I heard Bingo’s bike burning rubber a minute later.”
“What about Dax and Lacey? Are we gonna have a problem, or were they cool with everything that went down?” Trick asked.
Saint shrugged. “Didn’t seem to faze Dax a bit. Lacey was happy she got to leave early, ‘cuz her girlfriend’s band was playing at some bar downtown and she wanted to go watch them anyway.”
“Anything else?” King asked Saint. I glanced up, catching Saint’s eye as he hesitated. I raised my eyebrows, and Saint grimaced.
“It ain’t the first time that bitch has been in to see Pic, Prez. She came by a few nights ago, right around closing time. They, uh, left together. She was on the back of his bike, Prez.”
“Shit,” King grumbled, shaking his head as he looked at Cowboy and Trick. “Thanks, brother. Appreciate you looking out for the club tonight. Go reward yourself with a drink and some pussy.”
Saint was clearly relieved at being dismissed. I started to rise, but my dad motioned to me to stay, so I planted my ass back in my seat.
“I’m not even gonna ask if you knew about this bitch sniffin’ around Pic,” King started, and I shook my head.
“Fuck no, I didn’t know. I probably would have pulled my own knife on the asshole.”
Trick snickered and King rolled his eyes at my comment. “I gotta reach out to Rash,” King muttered, picking up his phone and thumbing through the numbers in his contact list until he got to the right one.
The president of the Cincinnati River Rats MC, out of Ohio, was so named for the wicked road rash he’d gotten during an accident while he was a prospect, which had left him with some faint scarring on one side of his face. He and Sinner had worked out an alliance years ago, which King maintained to this day. Neither club ran into much trouble, but when we did, we could call on the other to help out. With both of us being solo clubs with no other chapters, it helped to have another club to count on. I knew King didn’t want to lose that support.
The next couple of minutes were a little tense, as King explained to Rash what had gone down tonight.
“Yeah, man, Picasso swears she told him that she and Bingo were through.” King listened to the other man speak for a minute, then laughed. “It’s fucked up all right. Those two are toxic as shit, even without throwing Pic into the mix.”
I started to relax a little, since it seemed like Rash wasn’t going off on the other end of the phone, and it seemed Cowboy and Trick felt the same way.
“Well, I’d like to offer you and your club a marker, along with the five-thousand-dollar fine I’m gonna collect from Pic.” I winced, thinking that was gonna suck for my club brother, but it was his own damned fault. He knew better than to believe that shit about them breaking up unless he heard it from Bingo himself, and he damned sure knew not to stick his dick into any part of another man’s Ol’ Lady or stick her ass on the back of his bike.
I saw Trick nodding in agreement, and noticed a shit-eating grin on Cowboy’s face as King wrapped up the conversation with an assurance that there would be no retaliation from our club due to Bingo’s actions. King ended the call and tossed his phone onto the desk, running his hands through his hair as he heaved a sigh of relief.
“That sounded like it went well, Prez.” Trick noted, and King nodded.
“Yeah, Rash is pissed as fuck at Bingo for not giving him a heads up that he was coming to our territory, and for a shit-ton of drama that he and that bitch have been causing down there. Bingo apparently took a swing at a couple of the Rats last week over her ass.”
“Rash was good with the marker, and the fine?” Cowboy asked with a raised brow.
“He probably would have been fine with just one or the other since Bingo’s on thin ice with his club, too, but the alliance means enough to us that I offered both as a gesture of goodwill.”
We all nodded, understanding where King was coming from and agreeing with it. A man’s Ol’ Lady was off-limits, period. There’s a reason that the Ol’ Ladies’ cuts have rockers that read “Property of”. It may seem archaic to outsiders, but to a club, it means that woman is honored and protected by that club member, and that MC as a whole.
“Rome, Pic’s gonna be out until he heals, at least. We’re gonna bring this to a vote in Church tomorrow morning, but I’m proposing that we suspend him from the shop for thirty days in addition to the fine.” My brows shot up in surprise, but King was serious. “He needs to know how bad he fucked up, and I don’t think just a fine’s gonna do it. We’re just damned lucky there weren’t any other clients at the shop when it all went down. We don’t need that kind of reputation.”
