Murphy listened to his leader, his president, curse Tate. He knew the anger as he was feeling the same. Tate refused to have anything to do with him or her father. Every member of the club had tried to draw her back into their world, but each time she cut them down short. The only time she’d talk to him was when he entered the dentist surgery where she worked. Holding in the chuckle, he wasn’t about to admit to his brothers his new obsession, stalking Tate Johnson.
“Something funny, Murphy?” Tiny asked. The older man had a short temper at the best of times, but now, it was seriously short.
“Do you know where she’s working?” Murphy kept his hands locked in front of him. He was surrounded by his brothers once again, and everything finally felt right in his world. For the past couple of years he’d been with another club, The Lions, to gain information for Tiny that would help his club. They were the longest years of Murphy’s life. He’d seen things that he never wanted anyone to know. The Skulls were hard, rough bastards, but they had rules. The Lions never lived by any rules.
“She’s a receptionist for a fucking dentist. Yeah, I know where my daughter’s working.” Tiny threw down the cell phone he’d been holding, and silence fell in the room. Glancing around Murphy saw Lash was looking at his watch while Nash bounced his leg up and down. Butch, Hardy, Zero, Mikey, and several other members were sat waiting for the next lot of business.
The first line of business was dealing with Tate. She’d been part of the club but was never allowed to stay over. Tiny was very protective of her and demanded the upmost respect for his only child.
“She’ll come around,” Lash said, interrupting the silence.
“Tate talking to Angel?”
“Yes.”
Murphy tuned out trying to think of a better way to deal with Tate than force her back, caveman style.
“I’m sending Steven to keep an eye on her. He’s healthy, but I want to make sure he’s completely up to the job before we patch him in,” Tiny said.
A couple of months ago two of their prospects, Steven and Blaine, had been shot and almost killed trying to protect their women. Their intended sacrifice and intervention had given them the patches they’d been waiting for. Murphy had a lot of respect for the two men, and he did believe they’d make a good addition to The Skulls.
“I want that job,” Murphy said, looking at Tiny.
“Tate hates your guts,” Nash said, speaking up for once.
“My job was to take care of her before, and I can do it again.” Murphy ignored their stares. “I’ve got this. I fucked up, and I can fix it.”
Tiny stared at him for several minutes. Everyone knew not to interrupt him when he was thinking. “Fine, you make it worse and I’m shooting you. Next order of business, some of The Lions want to patch in. Murphy, give us the lowdown on what’s going on.”
Sitting back, Murphy gave them the information on the three men waiting outside for a chance to patch in.
“They didn’t like the old ways, but they put up with it because they didn’t have anything else. The shit that went over there was rough.”
“If they do drugs then I’m out,” Hardy said.
“Shut up. Tell us about them.” Tiny gave him the instruction.
Standing up, Murphy moved to the blind and lifted it up. The three men were too busy looking around the bar at the old ladies and sweet-butts to see them staring.
“The big guy, over six foot five, is Killer. He’s a little like Lash and can kill with his bare hands. It doesn’t scare him to use them on men who need it. The Lions got kicks out of him killing for sport. Underground fighting and all that shit was where they got shit-loads of money.”
“Should we have someone like that on our team?” Butch asked.
“He’s a good guy and refused to go to your house, Tiny.” Murphy liked the guy and would do anything to get him in with The Skulls.
“Fine, we’ll talk. Stop fucking interrupting, or I’ll deal with this alone. The next one,” Tiny said.
“Whizz, computer geek and hard ass. Don’t let the glasses and skinny look fool you. He’s a hard-nosed bastard and doesn’t like to be crossed.”
“How the fuck did you escape then?” Lash asked.
Murphy knew Lash and Nash were going to be hard on him. They’d grown up with Tate, considering her a sister they needed to protect.
“Everything I did was to help this fucking club. Don’t give me shit about stuff you don’t know about. The last one is Time. He was always on time for everything. The guy has a built in brain like clockwork.”
He sat back in his seat waiting for more instructions.