Chapter 10 (Max): Patience

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Copyright © 2024 by GroveltoHEA

"A word, Prospect," Beard said to me as he passed me at the bar. I tossed the rag down and followed him to his office, where he shut the door and then faced me.

"Your year's up today." His face gave away nothing.

I just looked at him, suddenly realizing he could either be reinstating me as a full brother...or cutting me loose from the club forever. He could also extend my time as a prospect but I didn't feel like this conversation was about that. This was it. I was either in or out.

"The brothers and I voted this morning in church. The vote was unanimous."

Patience, Max. You've waited a year for this decision. You can wait a few more seconds.

"We voted you back as a full brother, Shotgun."

I huffed out a huge breath and clutched my stomach, unable to believe it was over. It was over. I was still a brother of the Rampage MC. 

I tried to find words, any words, but they were jammed in my throat. Bending over, hands on my thighs, I just tried to breathe in deeply and absorb the unexpected news. I'd really thought they were going to vote me out. I was glad I hadn't realized the vote was happening today because I would have lost my shit.

Kind of like I was doing now.

I hadn't lost my brothers. I was still Rampage.

My relief threatened to bring me to my knees as I struggled to drag in air.

And then, I felt Beard's hand grip my shoulder.

"It's OK, Max."

Max. Beard had called me that until I turned eighteen and became an official Prospect, and then he'd never called me by my given name again. 

The day I'd first met Beard, he'd found me scrounging in the dumpster behind one of the Rampage's restaurants. I'd been living there for six months after my dad had kicked me out at fifteen because his new wife didn't like children. I'd had to defend my territory four times, the last time just three nights before Beard found me, so I was still a little chewed up. Fortunately, I was a big kid and a determined fighter, so the other guy was chewed up more.

He'd asked me a few questions, and as I'd answered them, he read between the lines while he looked closely at my face.

"What happened?"

I hesitated.

"Don't lie to me, Max."

"Got jumped. Someone wanted to take my place behind the dumpsters. I wouldn't let him."

"You like to fight?"

"If I need to."

For a long minute, Beard just looked at me with his intense eyes as if he was trying to see into my soul. I wasn't sure I even had one, but he looked like he was trying to figure it out.

"Got a room for you at my MC's clubhouse. You don't give me shit, you keep going to school and you do what we need you to do at the clubhouse."

All I heard was we need you. I'd make sure of it. I'd become indispensable to the Rampage. I wasn't even sure what the Rampage MC was; I just knew I'd seen them blast through town on their loud-ass motorcycles and wearing leather vests that I would later learn were called cuts. Whatever the bikers were, it had to be better than living behind a dumpster.

"I'd appreciate it."

Four months later, Beard was staring me down again. "You don't have to work all the time, Max."

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