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Saving Dallas 2 Making the Cut(83)

By:Kim Jones


“I appreciate that, but this is no longer a club problem. I made the decision to get the club out of this shit, and as it stands now, we have no problem with Charlie. I want to ask the club’s approval to release Frankie into the custody of Charlie. He will deal with him however he decides. I can’t promise that he will eliminate him, but I can promise that if Frankie tries to fuck with the club again, he will have to answer to Charlie. All in favor of releasing Frankie as club property?” A chorus of “aye” and “yes” filled the room. “All opposed?” Silence fell as the decision to give Frankie to Charlie was made. No opposed. No turning back now. I had my chance to save my girl. I thought I would be happy, but my next order of business played in my head and prevented me from enjoying it, not that I had a doubt my brother’s wouldn’t have agreed. I took a deep breath and braced myself for what was to come.

“I have spoken to Charlie. I told him once the club had voted; I would give him my answer. Frankie is no longer a problem to the Devil’s Renegades. He is now only my problem.” I watched as the eyes of my brother’s widened, they knew what was coming. I stood from the table and removed my cut. I looked at the worn leather and dirty patches that covered it. I had worked hard to earn it, even harder to keep it. I had defended it with my life, and treasured it. It had brought me happiness, heartache and solace. There were memories, both good and bad. Since I was old enough to understand what it stood for, I had desired it. It had been my lifeline and my best friend. I was a better man for wearing it. It had made a man out of me, and in return I had brought it honor and dignity. Now I was letting it go.

“I can’t meet Charlie’s demands as long as I wear this cut. I can’t allow my club to fail at my expense. I knew there was no way any of you would let me ride alone. As my brother’s, you have a responsibility to me, as your President. I refuse to place that burden on you. I am leaving, with Frankie, and I can’t take you with me. I ask that you let me make this decision as a man, and not as your President. I know that if any of you were in my position, you would do the same. As of this moment, I am officially no longer your President, or fellow brother in the Hattiesburg Chapter of the Devil’s Renegades Motorcycle Club.” I laid my cut down before me. It would be the first time in twelve years that it did not belong to me. I was a man full of sorrow and pain. I was a man full of regrets and bad decisions. As I left the room with my head high, unable to look into the faces of the men before me, I was a man that for the first time in my life, stood alone.

It felt wrong riding my Harley without my cut, but I found strength when I felt the vibration in my hands and the roar of pipes in my ears. I was a nobody, an independent. The heavy leather was not there to wear me down, yet it felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. Dallas would be in my arms tomorrow. Just the thought of her molding her body against mine dulled the pain, but it wasn’t enough. I was not whole without Dallas, and I was not whole without my club. I couldn’t live life as half of a man, but to save the woman I loved, I would have to. I didn’t visit any bars, or ride by one of my clubs. The thought of correcting someone because they called me LLC made me sick. Just like my cut, my name had been taken too. I was now just Luke. Vice President of Carmical Construction. Lover to Dallas Knox. Son of William and Karen. Uncle to numerous children. To some, that would have been enough. Well, it wasn’t enough for me.

My house was dark when I returned, just as I expected it to be. Only one car remained besides mine and Dallas’s-a black Mustang with GET RED on the tag. This was gonna be a cluster fuck. Maybe if I was lucky, she rode home with Regg. The red cherry from a cigarette lit up the inside of my carport and I knew I had not gotten lucky. I didn’t bother pulling my bike into its sanctuary that I had created for it inside my home. I just cut it off in the drive, stepping away from it and laying my lid on the seat. The front porch light illuminated the darkness outside and I saw Red approaching, wearing that kick-ass attitude she wore so well. She walked right up to me, her face streaked in tears and mascara and slapped me hard across the left side of my face. My head spun to the side when her palm connected with my cheek.

“You son of a bitch! How dare you walk out on us!” she said, her voice full of hurt and anger. “You are what keeps us together. Those men are lost without you.” Her seething anger was something I wasn’t expecting from her. Out of everyone, I thought she would get it.

“I didn’t have a choice, Red,” I said, willing her to understand.