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Lucas
“I hereby call this full meeting of the Black Shamrocks Motorcycle Club to order. We are in session.” Beast can barely be heard as he speaks. Slamming the gavel down on the sound block, he eyeballs Mad Dog and me. The fat, split lip he’s sporting is bleeding, and his face is a mass of rapidly darkening bruises. His swollen features render him almost unrecognizable. The only features readily identifiable as the Beast I know are his upright bearing and unblinking, forthright gaze. Apart from that he could be a stranger.
I’m still of two minds. I want Beast held accountable for what he’s done to the Club, for what he let happen to Maddi and JJ. I guess I’m still in denial that the man I’ve idolized my entire life has fallen so far from grace that he’s jeopardized his place in the Club.
Jeopardized his life.
There are two ways to leave the Shamrocks once you’ve patched in, and they both involve a body bag. The only difference is how you end up in the body bag. Natural causes like old age, or a bike accident. Or because the Club put you there.
Beast’s staring down the barrel of the second option.
Clearing his throat as he pushes to his feet from his seat to the left of Beast, Mad Dog places both palms on the table and hangs his head for a long second. After a deep breath, he lifts his head and meets the eyes of every brother in the room, one by one.
Every member of the Black Shamrocks Mother Chapter is present. A few openly challenge Mad Dog with their gaze, but the majority nod solemnly when he meets their eyes. He leaves me for last.
Facing me, he has one question in his eyes. Should we do this? It takes me a short moment to answer him, although it feels like an eternity passes before I incline my head in response to his unstated query. Let’s do this.
“It’s fucking killing me, but I have to do this.” Mad Dog stands tall, his expression solemn. He’s close to losing it, hiding his clenched fists behind his back as he continues. His voice is strong and sure, belying the tension gripping him. “I formally challenge for the position of President of the Black Shamrocks Brisbane Chapter and for the Black Shamrocks National Presidency. I call this motion on the grounds of treason committed by the current President, Beast O’Brien.”
We all knew the challenge was coming yet curses and mutters of disbelief echo around our chapel. Obviously, I wasn’t the only one still holding on to their denial, clutching it like a dying man holds his faith on his deathbed.
“I second the motion.” My voice isn’t quite as strong as Mad Dog’s, but it doesn’t quaver.
“I second it as well.” Smoke moves to stand next to Mad Dog. “I was there today. I saw it all firsthand.”
“Fucking hell, my son. Step back,” Butch urges Smoke to rethink his stand.
Smoke visibly swallows. “I’m sorry, Dad. I can’t.”
This is it. There’s no going back now. The motion must pass—we have a challenger, and two endorsers as required by our constitution.
Bang.
Bang.
Beast slams the gavel down twice, his expression emotionless.
“The motion passes. Let’s do this.” He pushes back in his chair at the head of the table, his knuckles white as he grips the edge of the table. “As the challenger, Mad Dog presents first. I’ll rebut once we’ve heard what the fuck he has to say.”
For the first time since the meeting was called to order, an emotion flits over his blank face, his eyes filling with hate as he addresses Mad Dog. “Make it fucking good. You’ve got one chance.”
“One chance is all I need, old man.” Mad Dog’s show of disrespect in not addressing Beast by the title he still holds, for now, causes angry rumbling to flow around the room.
Dropping back into his seat, and motioning for silence, he begins presenting his case. “Last night, Timber’s woman was snatched from her house. This morning, Lainey was forced into a car after Sal was run over to get to her. You all know this.”
Agreement echoes around the room. “What you don’t know is that Beast knew this was gonna go down.”
“Bullshit,” Beast interjects, slamming his fist down on the table.
“Quiet. You’ll get your turn,” Butch butts in.
He’s our Road Captain, both Lenny and myself technically outranking him since Mad Dog and Beast are out of commission during this meeting. I can’t be fucked arguing the point right now, and a quick glance at Lenny tells me he feels the same. Butch can run the show, until he crosses the line.
“Let me rephrase. Beast knew that something like this was gonna go down. Soon. He’s been meeting with Wizard and the Mavericks behind our back for months. I don’t know exactly how long, but it’s been happening since they approached him to threaten the Club with evidence they say they have about Lainey’s dead ex and the Club getting rid of his body. They were leveraging their evidence, threatening to take it to the cops and her ex’s father. Beast agreed to an alliance between the Clubs to get it back. Instead of bringing the threat to the table, he gave the okay to a deal where my woman was given to the fucking Mavericks to create an alliance.”
Every man in the room turns to look at Beast, waiting for the explosive reaction to the accusation. When it doesn’t come, the little noise that was being made ceases. Everywhere I look, I’m met with stunned expressions.
“What proof do you have of this?” Butch asks the question on the tip of everyone’s tongue.
“Smoke.” Mad Dog gestures Smoke to step forward. When we were waiting for everyone to arrive, the two of us discussed who’d be the best to fill everyone in with details. Mad Dog nominated Smoke for the job once he’d arrived at the Compound from the hospital, because he’d be seen as the most impartial. Smoke had agreed after only the slightest prodding.
Clearing his throat once he’s standing next to Mad Dog, Smoke addresses the assembled men, a red spot visible on each cheek. He hates speaking in front of groups—even if he knows them—so this is torturous for him in more ways than one. “Today when I was out canvassing with the other Enforcers, we came across Two-Tonne Tony. He ran from us, so I called Mad Dog to see whether he wanted me to chase him down.”
Everyone listens intently as Smoke outlines how he chased down Tony and brought him back to the bunker at Mad Dog’s request. The longer he speaks, the stronger his voice becomes, his confidence that he’s doing the right thing grows.
“I don’t know what Tony told Mad Dog and Timber, but I can tell you what happened when they phoned myself, Kid, and Butch.” He nods at his father as he addresses him by his road name. “They asked us to meet them without letting Beast know. We agreed, following them to the Mavericks’ safe house after Kid narrowed down the general position of it.”
Turning my gaze to Kid, who’s been quiet throughout everything, I see him looking at Beast through worried eyes. He knows that using his hacking skills behind the Prez’s back could end up coming back to bite him. Hard.
“Anyway, before we made it to the house, we intercepted a car with JJ, Connor, and two other Mavericks in it.”
Smoke fills everyone in on what happened at the crash site, and what met us when we arrived at the Mavericks’ safe house. Rumbles of angry disapproval spread through the chapel as Smoke tells how Wizard and Cam were attempting to rape Maddi when we arrived, only to be replaced by murmurs of approval as he talks about Mad Dog’s reaction to seeing it.
Pausing as he reaches Cam’s confession to the deal with Beast, he turns his gaze first to Mad Dog and then to me, seeking confirmation that he should continue. We both nod. Smoke can keep the floor for now, his status as Beast’s nephew adding impact to what’s about to unfold. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he pats the pocket of his cut that he keeps his ever-present smokes in before pulling out the packet and placing an unlit cigarette between his lips. His thumb twitches as if he wants to light up, but he knows better.
Chapel is the one place in the club where alcohol, cigarettes, and weed are not welcome. Straight head. Smart decisions. Brotherhood before blood has been our motto from the start.
“Once we had the situation under control, Mad Dog started questioning Cam. He said that the Mavericks had proof about Maddi’s dead ex and that they’d made a deal with Beast. The deal was that Maddi went to the fucking Mavericks and they’d give Beast the evidence. Wizard’s plan, according to Cam, was to fuck around with Maddi for a while, and then hand her over to Cam when he was ready to step down. Cam said it was going to be soon.”
Lenny has been sitting back watching Beast’s reaction, the occasional frown breaking across his face when he heard something he didn’t like. Now he stands, slapping his palm down on the table. “None of this makes sense. It’s fucking obvious that you cockheads have been sucked in by the Mavericks’ bullshit. Why would Beast not bring this shit to the table? We could’ve dealt with the fucking Mavericks. We’re strong enough to crush them. There’s nothing to gain by bringing my niece into this shit—”
“That’s what I thought, as well,” Mad Dog concedes Lenny’s point. “But, it’s the fucking truth. What Smoke hasn’t mentioned is what Cam planned to do with Lainey, once fucking Wizard stepped down. This wasn’t a straight swap. This was a blood alliance. She was sent to become an Old Lady. To bring the Mavericks back into the fold. To—”
“You’re full of shit. You just want the President’s patch,” Lenny accuses, sounds of agreement exploding around the room at his indictment of Mad Dog’s motives.
His eyes are wild, piercing straight through Mad Dog’s head as his rage takes over. He’s livid, ready to explode. Beast may have the hair-trigger temper, but Lenny’s is impressive on its own. He just takes a lot longer to lose it. His temper is the reason he is the only brother without a road name. Nothing stuck when he was prospecting because he made sure it didn’t.
“Fuck you, Lenny. He fucking admitted it. Said the choice between the club and her was fucking simple.” Panting hard, his hands planted on the table, I know that his next move is to leap over it, and smack Lenny in his disbelieving face.
“For fuck sake. Everyone shut up,” I yell.
The room is going to implode in a matter of seconds if someone doesn’t step up.
Bang.
Bang.
Beast brings the gavel down. “Sit the fuck down.” Beast glares at every brother, one by one, until everyone is back in their seat or standing back against the wall. “This is still my Club. We follow the fucking procedures.”
That’s a bit rich coming from the fucker who’s just shit all over our rules and procedures.
“Continue.” He points the end of the gavel at Mad Dog.
“As I was saying.” He sends a pointed look at Lenny as he resumes speaking. “Between Two-Tonne Tony telling me and Timber that our women were snatched by the Mavericks to broker peace, and Cam telling us about the deal they had with Beast, we decided to bring them all back to the bunker for questioning. Before I called this challenge, we met with Beast in the bunker and showed him Wizard’s body, Cam, Connor, and the other fucking Mavericks.”
I nod, backing his version of events.
“We fought after he told me that I’d fucked up his plans. That I’d signed a death warrant for each one of you. After he told me that he made the deal because when it came time to choose between everything he’s worked for and Lainey, it wasn’t a hard choice because she’s already ruined.”
Curses erupt as each of our brothers’ take in Mad Dog’s words. There’s an even divide in the group, one portion looking ready to take down Beast while the remaining faction appears to share the same thoughts as Lenny regarding me and Mad Dog.
“Is that everything?” Beast addresses the room.
He hasn’t met our eyes since he opened the floor to us, and he doesn’t meet them now.
I know I’m not the only one shocked by his quiet acceptance of the allegations against him. The best guess I can make is that he knows it’s over, or he has something up his sleeve. My bet being on the former, because until this current shit blew up in his face, Beast has never been one to hide anything. More often than not he’s too straightforward.
“I reserve the right to rebut.”
“Agreed.”
Bang.
The gavel hits the sound block, taking us another step closer to the end.
Expectation grows in the room, weaving itself around us all like a dark cloud. This is a momentous—and epically fucked-up—occasion for the Shamrocks. We’ve never had a challenge for the President’s patch—or a President accused of treason.
“Mad Dog is correct,” Beast declares.
His words are clear, forceful, and grim. Still favouring his split lip, he continues speaking, maintaining the same matter-of-fact tone even in the face of the confounded reactions of his brothers—the men he’s led for the past five years. The men who until this moment trusted him enough to throw their lives down for him without question.
“What he doesn’t know are the reasons behind it. I did this for the Club. For my sons. Even for my baby girl. I did it to protect all of us. And I’d fucking do it again.”
Mad Dog growls when Beast refers to Maddi by the endearment he’s called her for the duration of her life. No doubt he feels, and I agree, that Beast’s actions have removed his right to mention her with love.
The chapel falls silent when Beast does. Not one person speaks; the only sounds to be heard are breathing and the occasional bout of fidgeting.
“Are you gonna fill us in, or is it time to vote?” Lenny asks in a hard, no nonsense voice.
His faith in his younger brother is gone. If hatred was looking to manifest into human form, it would need to look no further than Lenny O’Brien to find its home. His face sums up all our feelings toward the admission still ringing around the room.
“I have nothing further to say. It’s time to vote,” Beast replies.
“What the fuck?” Mad Dog jumps to his feet, his seat tipping over as he does. It hits the floor with a loud smack. “You’re not gonna explain any of this? Offer a fucking apology for what you did to Lainey? Nothing?”
Pointing a huge, sausage-sized finger at Mad Dog, he says, “No, I’m not. When you gutted Wizard, you set into motion everything I’ve been working to avoid. What happens next is on your fucking head.” Turning toward me, he curls his top lip as he points at me next. “And yours, Timber. You two useless cunts have crushed this Club.”
Pushing out of his chair, he pulls off his cut.
Throwing it on the table, he walks toward the double doors that lead into his office and then out to the bar. “Vote all you want. Take my fucking patch. I don’t give a flying fuck anymore. There’s no way we can avoid the war the Mavericks are gonna bring down on our head now that Wizard’s dead. The Black Shamrocks are fucked. Gone. Walking dead men.”
The doors swing open as he barges through them. Every head in the chapel turns to watch them swing open and shut repeatedly until they fall still, losing the momentum created by his exit. We all regard each other, a million questions needing answers, yet the only person who can answer them has wiped his hands of the Club. Left the room. Fuck knows, he could’ve left the fucking Compound.
“We need to vote.” Lenny’s gravelly voice splinters the silence. “I’ll begin. I vote to support Mad Dog’s challenge. We’ll go around the table now.”
A chorus of “aye’s” meet Lenny’s repeated question as each brother answers him when asked. Not one brother votes for Beast to retain his presidency. It takes a few minutes, but eventually only my father, Viking, Butch, Smoke, Mad Dog, and myself are left.
Butch answers in the affirmative; the toll it takes on him to vote against his former brother-in-law and life-long brother-in-arms written all over his strained face.
Smoke follows his father, answering quietly in the affirmative.
Our fathers shake their heads at each other, a silent conversation being held between them before Dad helps Viking to his feet.
“Conan? Viking?” Lenny questions as they head for the doors Beast left through in silence. “Your vote?”
“I follow the majority. It’s a dark day in hell for this Club, but I have no love for traitors. It’s an aye from me.” Dad doesn’t look at me, doesn’t even slow as he speaks. He only halts when Viking motions him to stop.
“Aye,” Viking wheezes, his frail chest lurching as he coughs, unable to speak further.
Mad Dog and I stare at each other, our reservations apparent in our expressions as our fathers make their way out of the Chapel. The vote needs to be unanimous for the motion to pass.
My gut’s telling me not to go ahead with the challenge. That we need to revisit this once we know what Beast’s hiding.
“Timber?” Lenny asks. “Your vote?”
“Nay.”
“Fuck me. What are you playing at? This’s your challenge.” Lenny shakes his head in disgust. He doesn’t understand why I’ve changed my mind. I can’t say that I understand it either, all I know for certain is that it was the right decision—the instant relief I feel proving it’s the right choice. “Mad Dog? What’s your fucking vote?”
“Nay. I vote no as well.”
The breath I was holding as I waited for Mad Dog’s answer leaves me in a rush. Thank fuck, I read what he was trying to tell me correctly.
“You two assholes have a problem. You’ve just tipped this Club on its fucking head. Our President’s a traitor, and the challenger and his second have voted to keep him. I’ve had fucking enough of this shit tonight.” Butch steps forward, crossing his arms over his chest.
Lenny stands next to him with an identical quizzical—and angry—look on his face. The remainder of the Club stands behind them. Taking in the faces of my brothers, I shrug at Mad Dog. He can answer their questions. I have barely a clue what’s going on either, so he can fill me in at the same time.
Looking at the clock that hangs on the wall above the President’s seat, I see that it’s nearly midnight. It’s already been a long fucking day, and it’s not over yet. Instead of getting to the bottom of things, all we’ve done is find more things to question.
“It’s only fucking temporary,” Mad Dog addresses everyone at once. “We need to find out what he’s hiding. He doesn’t get to just walk away from the Club and leave us fucking swinging. He owes us.”
He has the agreement of everyone present, the nodding heads making that apparent. “I might’ve fucked up when I gutted that piece of shit, but he had it coming. Any of you would have done the same if it was your woman.”
Murmurs of assent greet his statement. “Payback should’ve been delivered months ago. Not just for Lainey, but for Joel and the Club. The Mavericks fucked us over then and because they got away with it, they’re trying to fuck us over now. We have the body of their President in the bunker. We’ve got their fucking VP, and we’ve got Connor. We hold the cards, and we can get through this. We just need a plan.”
Running his hands through his hair, he closes his eyes, shutting us all out. I know how he feels. My mind is running in a million different directions, trying to sort through everything we’ve learned during the last twelve hours. There are still too many “what ifs”, “whys” and “how comes” to formulate a proper plan yet.
“We need Beast to talk. Willingly or otherwise.” My mouth is in gear before my brain catches up, the thought falling from my mouth as soon as it appears in my head. Would I be able to use my favourite interrogation techniques on Beast if it meant we got the answers we need?
I’m not fucking sure.
“You’re right.” Mad Dog nods. “You’re fucking right. And I know just how to do it.”
“How?” The question is shot at him from all corners of the room. I lift an eyebrow, letting him know that I don’t know if I’m down with what I just suggested.
“We let him stew on it tonight. Keep him out of the bunker. Keep someone on him at all times. Then tomorrow we hit him with the big guns. I’ll organise it tonight.”
“Fucking quit being so cryptic,” Butch demands. “What big guns?”
“Just wait ‘til tomorrow, brother. All will become clear. Crystal fucking clear.”
