Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 153

Tank POV

After such a great night, and an easy start to the day in the dining hall, I hadn’t expected it all to turn to shiet in a matter of minutes.

The update on Cricket and the rest was a huge blow, but nothing that surprised me; however, the guys lost it. wanting blood now, I felt the same way at first, but now I just want more answers. With every answer came more questions.

Pieces were starting to fit.

We know that the accident was rigged.

It was on Jones’s gang’s side of the border, and their jurisdiction, their people hiding evidence, that our side couldn’t get hold of. Was this all the Jones gang was doing? Having people in the law who made the evidence disappear, or corrupted it so you couldn’t use it.

Too many questions. Both Tandy and Uncle Simon are going to investigate that town and the people who run it. They have no judge; the town has only four police officers, since its size was too small to need more, and I guess it’s easier to handle paperwork and evidence. It also meant fewer people for Uncle Simon to investigate.

We all headed back to the clubhouse, each holding so much anger inside.

I want to ask Bruiser so many questions, regarding how much he knew about Cricket, and her lies, but we can’t, not yet. This has to look like a membership return, not a Jones Gang inquisition, but I will be watching him closely; he has hurt us deeper than he knows. Even if he were innocent and believed all her lies, we would still have lost trust in him. Another person can sway him again; it seems he can be gullible, for a pretty face, he will never, well, not if I have anything to say about it, hold a place of leadership again.

Slowly, they came, one at a time, marched between two armed guards, faces glum.

Some were offended by the guards, and their attitude sucked, so much for wanting back in, you don’t come growling at us, and expect to be accepted back. One guy’s attitude was so bad that he didn’t get his full fifteen minutes. I flagged the guards, and they removed him. Prez suggested he look at his attitude. We didn’t have to take anyone back. That was what some needed to learn; they walked, we didn’t push them out, and we don’t have to take them back.

Blaze was keeping a record of our members’ reactions: a cross, a tick, or a question mark. Each with a cross or a question mark. Will be given another chance: a longer meeting. This was the preliminary one. Get a feel for the splinter group and, at the same time, how our members view them.

Then it was Bruiser’s turn. He wasn’t the last; we had chosen the order by random.

He was marched in like a criminal. He tried to look confident, holding his shoulders and head up high, but the dark circles around his eyes and the sadness in them said a lot. He was broken, or that was how it appeared.

“Bruiser, why?” Was the first question, one of the members shouted out, the moment he was placed on the chair in front of them all. Guards stayed on either side of him, rather than near the door, for effect.

His shoulders slumped, his face dropped, and I thought for a moment that this strong, brave man was going to cry; he looked that shattered. But he swallowed a few times and looked at the one who called out.

“I was approached by members, suggesting a change in leadership, because of the handling of the Jones Gang. They had been badgering me since the attack. I guess I approached it all wrong, caved to the constant push.” He spoke softly, but calmly and clearly.

“Times up, will let you know when we need to talk about it. We still have more to cover; this was purely for the members to have a chance to ask questions.” Bruiser nodded and moved away, not fighting or arguing, his shoulders slumped, his head hung low. As they marched him away, and then next one came into view. Bruiser didn’t acknowledge the guy, who must have said something, because he head-whipped up.

The rest of the day, ex-members arrived, were mainly questioned by club members, and left. If they arrived expecting to be welcomed back with open arms, they left knowing the opposite was true. None were told they could come back; that another meeting would be organised to discuss this. In the meantime, think of what you can do for the club, because things would be different moving forward.

When the last was done, the members talked about the day, who they thought was genuine at returning with a better attitude, and those they feel are not wanted back, or have to do a nom session again. All would be on a minimum of one year’s probation.

I, for one, was not going to argue with the members. If this was what they wanted, I would support it, to some degree; a year seemed fair, and others might need longer. It was agreed that Bruiser would be a nom for at least three months and that it would be reviewed again after that. As he said, he was born in the club, and it was hard to tell him he was no longer family; it would be like telling any of those born into the club that they were no longer welcome.

“Prez, Tank, you going to meet them all again, one at a time, in the office? I don’t think we all need to do this again. We said our piece and are more than happy for you to make the final decision. Thank you for allowing us this opportunity to clear the air.” One of the long-time members had stood up and spoken, gaining agreements from the others as he expressed himself.

“I am proud of all of you; none of you lost your temper, close by kept it under control, and you asked good questions. Well done.” Prez replied, a smile on his face as he looked at his men.

“Bars open, drinks on me,” I shouted out, gaining cheers from the men as they rushed the bar.

“Geez, thanks,” Jinx called out as he got swamped with orders.