Page 54 of Rome
“Whatever it takes,” he agreed. He clasped his hand around my neck and pulled me close until our foreheads were touching. I reached out and grabbed the back of his neck the same way.
It’s something we used to do as kids when we felt an emotional tug on the twin bond, but only rarely did as adults. The last time we’d done it had been the day after the shooting, when he’d told us that he’d proposed to Molly. The time before that had been the day my kid was born, and we’d announced his name as Ethan Cole.
We both instinctively let go and stepped back at the same time.
“Sorry for punching you,” he tossed over his shoulder as he turned to go inside.
I snorted. “No, you aren’t.”
“Nope, I’m not,” he agreed, “but Molly made me promise to apologize, so if she asks, I did.”
As I stepped into the common room behind Jag, I felt the weight of the stares directed my way. Viking wandered over, took one look at me, and announced that I looked like dog shit.
“Yep, feel like it, too,” I replied, not offended in the least. He was right.
“You and Abby gettin’ things worked out?” As Sinner’s best friend for over fifty years, I had a feeling Sinner had kept him updated.
“I’ll die trying.”
He nodded, then looked around as King shouted that it was time for Church.
We all shuffled in as King took his seat at the head of the table, with Cowboy to his left, and Trick to his right, closest to the door. He called us to order, then started off the meeting with Irish giving us the latest on the club’s finances. We were all stoked when it was announced that profits were up across the board.
“You’ll each be getting a little extra in your envelope this time around,” King announced. He had to wait a few minutes for everyone to calm the fuck down. I had to admit, it was the first bit of good news I’d had this week.
Each patched member received an envelope full of cash every month, containing a portion of the club’s profits, over and above the salary they got if they worked at a club-owned business. Those of us who managed the businesses received an extra cut, as long as that business was on the right side of the profit margin. Since Pic and I were co-managers, we split that bonus, a fact he was still pissed about three years later. The past few months, our profits had been dropping but we were still in the black.
We spent the next forty-five minutes or so going over the general state of each business. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary happening, aside from some issues with the security cameras outside the strip club. King ordered Ace to get with Brick to have them all replaced. Brick ran our security alarm business, Guardian Angels Security.
King motioned to me. “Now, before we get the hell outta here for the day, Rome has requested the floor.”
All eyes turned my way. I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table in front of me, with my fingers laced together.
“You all have heard by now that I royally fucked up last weekend.” That got a few somber nods. “That shit never would have happened if I’d gotten my drinking under control like Abby’s been begging me to. So now, I’m gettin’ help for my problem.” There were a couple of surprised looks, smirks from Pic and Ace, and nods of approval from the rest.
“I’m not gonna bore you with the details right now, because I’m not even sure I understand it all myself yet, but the bottom line is this. I’m a binge drinker. When I start drinking, I don’t stop with just one or two. Scratch that…Ican’tstop with just one or two, because I lose my sense of judgement, and my self-control.” I looked around the table, letting my gaze rest on each of my brothers, one by one. “It’s hard as hell to admit it, but I need your help.” I paused, taking a deep breath, and Jagger nudged my leg under the table. I glanced at him and found him nodding his encouragement.
“I need you all to help hold me accountable when I’m around you. Don’t offer me a drink, so my dumb ass isn’t tempted to take it. If you hear me ordering a drink, stop me. If you see me holding a drink, knock it the fuck out of my hand. Then, knock me on my ass.” That got a few chuckles, and Trick muttered “Don’t worry, I will.”
“Right now, I can’t imagine ever being able to take a drink again. But just in case that changes, I need my brothers to watch my back.”
I heard someone say, “You got it, brother,” and then someone else, “We’ve got your back, man,” followed by “Whatever you need, Rome.”
Jag bumped my shoulder. “We’re here for you, bro,” he said quietly.
King cleared his throat. “Now, the last item is something Rome asked me about privately last night. It’s never been done before to my knowledge. Bull couldn’t find anything in the club bylaws about it either. So, it’s gonna have to go up for a vote.”
I braced myself because I had no fuckin’ idea how this vote was gonna go.
“As you all know, his actual road name is Romeo, although we’ve all just called him Rome for years. He’s asked that his road name be formally changed to Rome. Any objections?”
Pic was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, and at King’s question, he lifted one hand. “I got one. Why the fuck do you wanna ditch your patched name,Romeo?” I wanted to knock that fucking smirk down his throat. Judging by the way Jag lifted his ass off his seat, he was ready to lunge across the table to do it for me.
“My reasons are none of your fuckin’ business,Picasso.” I looked at the rest of the men sitting around the table. Most of them looked a little confused, and curious as hell.
“It’s personal, and it’s important enough to me that if it’s not voted through, I’ll be turning in my cut today.” The room filled with the sounds of grown men losing their shit. The outbursts varied, but all seemed to be along the lines of “What the fuck?” Jag leaned over and whispered one word in my ear.
“Abby?”
