Tank POV
Deep down, I believe he was worried about Sticks; she was not doing so well lately, her feet
swollen, her appetite almost non-existent, up half the night, visiting the bathroom. Prez said she might have the baby early, the doctor advises complete bed rest, and well, he was trying to get her to rest up, but she was annoyingly independent, and unless stuck in the hospital, we have no Buckley’s chance keeping her in bed all day.
We have all our own burdens, and at this time, Prez has an overflow of them that even sharing doesn’t reduce.
The members were waiting in the large hall, expectantly awaiting our arrival. None went home last night; it could be fear or adrenaline from a pending fight, but either way, these men were hyped and ready. There were dirty plates and cups dotted around the tables. Guess no one was on clean-up duty. Glad Fixer didn’t come; she would have been expected to do the cleaning. I dread what the kitchen would look like. These guys are not men who think about cleaning up after themselves, not here, anyway. Who knows what they are like at home? Pins must be in the kitchen, trying to clean up the place with the other few ladies who were here. It was a meeting for the men, so those who don’t live at the club would have been at home, too scared to leave their houses. Cricket left on the
back of Bruiser, and good riddance.
“Everyone here?” Prez asked as he looked around the room, so many glum faces.
“All that were here yesterday, I spoke to some of the members who couldn’t make it yesterday, and they are happy to go with the majority vote. Apologies, but work had to come first.” We all understand that life goes on, and although it would be nice to have them all here at the drop of a hat, life doesn’t work that way, and can be unforgiving; we accept what we can.
“Tank, read out some of your messages from Bruiser, then we shall discuss this.” I did as he asked and read several of his texts.
“Some of us have had the same type of message. But do you trust him? If he came back, would he stir things up and try again?” One of the guys called out from the back.
“That’s why we are here, not discussing this. We need to decide: do we let them walk back like yesterday never happened, or do we say no? Or yes but with conditions, like if we let Bruiser back, he will not be back as the enforcer; he has to earn that trust again. He will be like the rest of the members.” I called out to the member.
“Agreed, we need to vote. How do we go about this?” Another called out.
“Firstly, raise a hand for those who are happy to let them back in and forget yesterday?” Prez called out, and no one put up their hands. I would have been surprised if any had.
“Who would be happy to let them back in under conditions? We can discuss after the vote.” Only a few raised their hands.
“So, talk to me, what do you want?” Prez opened the floor to them.
“Bring Bruiser in, sit him in front of us all, and we’ll talk.” A suggestion came out.
“Okay, let me call him.” Prez pressed Bruiser’s number and had it on speaker for all to hear.
“Prez, thank the fuk, can we talk about this?” He pleaded.
“The members have agreed for you to come and talk. Can you come now?” Prez asked coldly.
“Be there in five.” Tank, can you let the security know he would be here and to let him in, only him.” I called the security man. Fixer had left me his number.
“Sir?” The man answered promptly.
“That idiot, who spent nearly all night at the gate, screaming profanities, he will be here in five, let him in, alone.”


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