Murphy(5)

“Bring them in,” Tiny said.

Getting up, Murphy opened the door, whistling for the three men to come inside. Killer took the lead with the other two following close behind him. Murphy stood beside them. He noticed The Skulls grew tense at the sight of insignia on the leather jacket. Most of The Lions were gone, but the cut was still being worn.

“Murphy vouches for you, and that means something to me. One month probation and then we’ll give you a chance to get patched. After the month you can then earn your place within the club. We’ll decide when you become a member. It could take a week, a month, or years, but I get the final fucking say. If it doesn’t work out in this month for you guys to be given a chance, then you’re gone without a trace, get me?” Tiny asked.

All three men nodded.

“Good, give me your fucking jackets.” Each of the three men handed over the leather jackets with hesitation. Murphy’s own jacket he’d burned, along with every single reminder of his time within the other club.

“Burn this shit.” Tiny threw the cuts at Hardy who then left to deal with it. “I don’t know what shit went on back in your club, and I don’t care. Here, now, you respect my rules. No drugs, it’s not an option for me. We deliver them, but we don’t use or deal them here in Fort Wills. If you’re given a job, you do it without any questions asked. When a woman says no, it means no. Follow the rules, respect the club, respect the patch, and you’ll learn the rest as you go.”

Tiny slammed his hand down on the table. “Meeting finished. Get the fuck out of here. Murphy, I want a word with you.”

He watched the others leave, nodding at Killer, Whizz, and Time to wait for him.

Lash was the last to leave, closing the door behind him.

“What’s the matter?” Murphy asked.

“Tate hates you, and I know shit went down with the two of you before you left. What’s going on?” Tiny stood up, looking every part the scary biker. He wasn’t wearing his jacket, and it showed his thick, tattooed arms folded across his chest.

“She was in love with me, and there were feelings there. I broke her heart, but I did what I had to. I put the club first.” Murphy kept his gaze on the older man. He expected Tiny to lose it very soon. “I’ll always put the club first.” It was hard to get the words out, but he knew what was expected of him. Murphy knew the moment he made that promise all those years ago to Tate.

Tiny nodded. “Patricia learned to deal with the club coming first. Her death was hard to deal with. I had this place to keep me going. I love my daughter. Don’t make her promises you can’t keep.”

Murphy agreed letting himself out of the room. Several of the men were wrapped around the sweet-butts. Taking a seat near the bar he ordered a shot of whiskey. He needed to calm his nerves. For the past three months he’d been back in the fold of The Skulls. Some of his brothers were still apprehensive around him, Tiny included. Did they think he turned while he’d been away?

“Hey, baby, do you want some company?” Fern asked, sliding up against him. She was one of the worst sweet-butts in the club, fucking anyone who’d have her. He remembered her trying to get one of the members to marry her, but she was a sweet-butt and would always be a sweet-butt.

“It’s not going to happen, Fern. Fuck off.” Murphy pushed her away.

“Do you seriously have a hang up on that fat bitch?” Fern’s voice rose. “Tate’s not even around here, and the last thing you’ll get is between those chubby thighs.”

Her words about Tate pissed him off. Acting without thinking, he grabbed her around the throat and slammed her head against the bar. The contact wasn’t harsh, but it had her gasping and shaking. “You ever talk about Tate like that again and I’ll fucking kill you. You’re a whore around here, Fern. No one wants you for anything other than a good hole. Tate is old lady material. You, you’re not.”

No one interfered as he grabbed his beer and walked outside. He noticed no one went running to Fern’s defense. The old ladies hated her, and the men used her.

Going behind the club he stared out at the mass of trees located behind their building. He would stand out here many times when looking out for Tate. She was such a hard woman to understand when he took care of her. Tate hadn’t been difficult or a bitch. She’d been this carefree spirit looking for a good time. Over the years he’d lost count of the parties he’d dragged her out of, but she’d never fought him when he removed her from the partying scene. He remembered the fact she simply stopped going to parties. Every time he did pull her out of a party he kept the information to himself and made sure Eva looked after her if she’d drunk too much.