Piston by Andi Rhodes
Chapter Eighteen
No, I wouldn’t be alone. Holland would be right there next to me.
Piston
Ibang the gavel on the table and bring church to order. This session was called on an emergency basis and I have no interest in being here longer than I have to be. Not with Holland waiting out in the main room for me.
“We’ll get through this as quick as we can,” Fender begins. “We had a situation during the assessment of the new drug runners last night and need to put the solution to a vote.” He turns to me. “P, fill ‘em in.”
I spend the next half hour explaining what went down with Des and Devin, about our suspicious that they’re both minors. No one interrupts me, but there are several grumbles around the table as I talk. Before I get into Holland’s proposed solution, I invite them to ask questions.
“Do we know if Porter knew Des is a minor or that he would bring his younger brother?” Flash, the club treasurer asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet. I’ll be following up on that today.”
“And if he knew?”
“If he knew, he’ll pay,” Fender snaps.
“Damn straight,” I agree. “And if he didn’t, I may just rough him up a bit for calling me crazy.”
Joker laughs. “Do whatever ya gotta do, brother.”
“Thanks for the permission, dumb ass.” Chuckles sound through the room but I sober and move on. “This brings me to the vote. Holland had a gr—”
“Wait a sec,” Gibson, the club doc, interrupts as he shoots up from his chair. “Holland was there?”
“Yes, she was.” I knew there’d be some blowback about this and I’m prepared for it. “I made a judgement call. You all agreed to my deal with her.” I make a point to look at each brother. “Part of that deal is that she gets to see all fucking sides of the club. Remember, I have final say on what gets printed so we have nothing to lose. Besides, last night was off the record.”
“That’s bullshit,” Gibson protests. “Ol’ ladies and bitches are not to—”
My vision blurs and I launch across the table at him. We roll to the floor and I land two blows to his face before I’m yanked off him.
“What the fuck, Piston?!” Gibson shouts and then spits blood onto the floor.
“If you ever call her a bitch again, so help me God…” I struggle against Riker and Joker’s hold. “You wouldn’t dare call Charlie that, or Riley, or any of the other ol’ ladies. Holland will get the same respect.”
“She’s not your ol’ lady,” he argues.
Gibson is right. She’s not. But if I have anything to say about it, she will be. Someday.
“Knock it off, now!” Fender barks. “If the two of you want to fight this out, do it on your own time. Church is for club business. It is not a place where you can whip your dicks out and measure. Got it?”
“Got it, Prez,” Gibson mumbles.
“Yeah, sure,” I say at the same time.
“Sit the fuck down, all of you, and let’s get back to Holland’s idea.” Fender glares around the room, and once we’re all seated, he adds, “As far as Holland being there last night, I gave the okay and the matter should be considered closed.”
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. I don’t know why he’s lying for me, but I’ll take it.
“Piston, continue,” Fender says and sits down himself.
“Holland had an idea and if I’m being honest, it’s a damn good one.” I take a few deep breaths. “She suggested that we take Des and Devin under our wing, so to speak. Give them odd jobs around the club, at Infinite Motors. Not only would this help with their money situation at home because they’d be paid for their time, but it would also give them the chance to have solid role models in their lives.”
“We’re one-percenters,” Flash interjects. “Not exactly role model material.”
“We’re better than their junkie parents,” I counter. “Look, we’re not perfect, but we’re not evil either. Not to people we care about. Not when it matters.”
“I’m with P,” Joker says. “I had a shit mom and if it weren’t for my dad and the support he got from the club, there’s no telling how I would have turned out.”
“You turned out fucking nuts,” Greaser teases.
“I don’t disagree, but I’ve got my shit together. I’ve got family, I’ve got good values, a great woman by my side. My life ain’t so bad.”
“Listen, I’m not saying Holland’s idea is a bad one,” Flash says and glances around the room. “I just want to make sure we’re doing this for the right reasons and not because Piston needs a fix for his case of blue balls.”
“This has nothing to do with sex,” I snarl. “And everything to do with doing what’s right. Since when did the right thing stop mattering to us?” I stand and lean on my fists on the table in front of me. “One-percenter or frou-frou club… it doesn’t matter. We profess to give a shit about loyalty and family and having each other’s backs.” I throw my hands up. “Well, Des and Devin don’t have that.”
“Okay, Piston, we get it.” Fender grins. “And you’re not wrong. I, for one, am with you and Holland on this one. It’s the right thing to do. Otherwise, we send two kids back to slum it and then what? They end up in a gang or selling on their own with no protection.” He shakes his head. “No, that’s not right.” He faces the group. “So, let’s put it to a vote because it’s getting a bit too sappy in here for my liking. All in favor of taking Des and Devin under our wings, bringing them into the club’s fold, thump twice.”
On the outside looking in, one might think that this vote would be split. Between the arguing and thrown punches, there’s no way someone would think that at our core, the Soulless Kings will always pull together, especially when it’s concerning a matter extremely important to one of the brothers. But that’s exactly what happens.
Two thumps all around.
I collapse into my chair, the fate of two boys no longer on my shoulders, no longer my burden to carry alone. Because that’s what I would have done. I’d have figured out a way to make sure Des and Devin were okay regardless of the vote, whether the Soulless Kings were a part of it or not.
You’re wrong. You wouldn’t be alone.
A smile tugs my lips. No, I wouldn’t be alone. Holland would be right there next to me.
