*****
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 cutt.