Beautiful Outlaw by Emily Minton
Time to Vote
Bowie
We roll into the clubhouse around nine in the morning. The place is already busting at the seams with members. I called ahead and told Cash we needed to have church as soon as I arrived. I gave him some bullshit story about problems with the drop, but he’ll find out the truth soon enough.
Climbing from my bike, I look over to Tin. “Are you sure you wanna be here for this?”
“I may not be able to vote, but I wouldn’t miss this for any fuckin’ thing.”
Even though Tin wears a cut, he doesn’t have the same rights the other brothers do. It took me three years of fighting with our father for him to be allowed in church at all, but his mixed blood keeps him from earning a vote. That is the first thing I’m gonna change when I take the gavel from Cash.
I nod and turn to the clubhouse, lighting a cigarette as I go. He lays a hand on my shoulder before I can even take a step. “Are you sure you don’t want to go see Shay before we go in there.”
Hell yeah, I do. A part of me wants to go grab her and run for the hills, but I can’t. I have to get that President’s patch off Cash. “Nah, man. I’ll see her when this is over.”
“Brother…” He starts but I cut him off with a shake of my head, not wanting him to remind me that I may never walk out of this place again.
“Come on then. Let’s get this shit done,” I say as we walk toward the clubhouse.
As soon as we step inside, I see Cash sitting at the bar with Toke at his side. “Fuck!”
The word barely leaves my mouth before Rollo is standing in front of me. Lines of worry are etched in his face as he says, “He was already here when I showed up this morning.”
“What I want to know is how the hell did he get away from you in the first place?”
“Fuck, brother. I had him drugged and tied up, so I thought it was safe to get a little sleep.” He runs a shaking hand through his hair.
Tin’s hand lands on my shoulder. “We’ll talk about this shit later.”
My barely controlled fury is threatening to break through, so I take a step back. Throwing my half-smoked cigarette to the floor, I growl out, “If any of us is still breathing when we walk out of here today, we’ll do more than talk.”
Rollo nods his head, knowing that nothing he can say will help him avoid the ass-whooping coming his way. “I understand.”
I nod, letting them all know the conversation is done, and head to Cash. He lifts his chin when he sees me approach. “You’re back.”
I don’t waste my breath shooting the shit, just get to the point. “I told you we needed to have church. Are you ready?”
“Sure am,” he says as he downs the rest of his beer.
*****
Fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting around the table. Cash is at the head with the gavel in his hand. He knocks it against the table and says, “There were some problems during the run to Alabama. Those fuckin’ Sixes are after our shit again, and your VP has plans to take their asses down.”
My eyes narrow in on Toke, sitting on the opposite side of the table from me. His eyes are trained on Cash, and for the first time, I see the hatred that Tin-Man told me about. The subtle fisting of his hands and flashes of anger in his eyes are the only signs. If I hadn’t been watching him so closely, I would have missed it.
Cash goes on, reciting my words from earlier. He tells them everything I said to him, then looks to me, drawing my attention from Toke. “Go on, Bowie.”
I take another drink of my beer before I say the words that could possibly end my life. “I want a vote. I want Cash out, and I want the gavel.”
“What the fuck?” my father roars as he jumps from his seat, sending the chair crashing to the floor. “This ain’t no time for games, boy.”
I ignore him and look around the table, making eye contact with each of my brothers. “Cash is running the club into the ground. He has us running guns in the Sixes’ turf, and now he has boys taking product up north to the Rejects’ territory. We may be able to handle war with one of those clubs, but we can’t fight them both at the same time.”
Cash tries to speak, but Topper cuts him off. “Another year of this shit, we’re gonna have more enemies than we can handle.”
“We voted to take the guns into Alabama.”
“Yeah, we did, but at the time, you said there was an agreement with the Sixes. Bowie and I learned that wasn’t true. Kilo and his boys came at us with their guns drawn,” Rollo says as he leans forward, placing the palms of his hands on the table.
“We voted against going up North,” I add, making sure the boys remember that Cash went against the vote and sent the boys anyway.
Topper takes a drink of his beer before saying, “What I don’t understand, what I’ve never understood, is why the hell we’re taking these risks. You’re sending guns down to Alabama when you know Sixes supply guns to half of the Southern states. Then you’ve got us taking coke up North. Everyone knows that the Rejects control the drug trade up there.”
I smile, knowing he is going to take the conversation where I want it to go. Still, I decide to give it a little push. “The Sixes don’t deal in drugs. After Kilo’s Old Lady OD’d, he outlawed anything stronger that weed in his club.”
“The Rejects don’t run guns,” Homer says, finally joining the conversation.
Rollo shakes his head. “No, they don’t. The ATF took them down while transferring a load of assaults a few years back. Their President took the heat. He’s serving a quarter in maximum security. After that, they pulled out of the gun trade.”
“That’s what I’m getting at,” Topper says with a nod. “Why aren’t we taking the drugs south and the guns north? Doing it like this doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense.”
A few other brothers mumble their agreement, but Cash cuts them off. “This is my club, and we do what I say.”
His voice is cold as ice, causing some of the brothers to back down. Not me, though. I just look at him and laugh. “You may be the President, old man, but this isn’t your club.”
I look back to my brothers. “This is our club.”
Cash starts again, but I shut him up by saying something my grandpa used to say all the time. “Every fuckin’ person here, from prospect to President, has a voice. To make the Outlaws strong, we have to listen to each of those voices.”
“Fuck that,” My father shouts. “I hold the gavel now, and you boys do whatever in the fuck I say.”
Topper slaps his hand on the table with such force it sends his beer crashing over. “I agree with Bowie. It’s time for a change. We need new blood sitting at the head of the table. I call for a vote.”
Without hesitation, Rollo agrees. “I second that.”
“Nay!” Cash shouts, casting the first vote.
I stand up and say, “Aye.”
One after the other, each of the brothers cast their vote. Surprisingly, some of the boys I thought would side with me vote Nay. By the time we make it around the table to Toke, it’s tied. I know, as soon as he casts his vote, Cash will put a bullet in my head. My only thought is that I wish I could see Shay once more.
“Aye,” Toke says, surprising the fuck out of me.
“What?” Cash roars, reaching down to grab Toke by his cut.
In seconds, the two of them are on the floor. I see Cash reach for his gun, but Toke jerks his hand away and rolls on top of him before he can pull it out. He lands a right hook into Cash’s face, breaking my father’s nose. Then, he stands up. “It’s over.”
Cash pulls himself to his knees, wiping blood from his face. “No, it’s not.”
Toke doesn’t respond to him, just turns to walk from the room. Before he steps outside, he looks over his shoulder at me. “Don’t fuck up.” With that, he’s out the door.
I turn back to the room and watch as Cash gets to his feet. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”
“Once a brother, always a brother,” Topper reminds me from his spot at the table.
As much as I want to throw his ass out, I know that’s not gonna fly. “First, you take off the President patch. Then, you grab a beer.”
I watch as he uses his knife to pull his patch from his cut. His hands are shaking so bad that it takes him awhile. When he finally gets it, he tosses it my way. “Happy now?”
I don’t bother replying, just look at the table. “My first order of business is naming my VP.”
“Don’t do it,” Cash orders, but I ignore him and look toward Tin.
“Tin-Man, I want you by my side,” I tell him.
He steps forward. With pride in his voice, he says, “I always am.”