Death Reapers MC: Angels to Ash

vii.

Angel, Death Reaper Conference Room.
"softness ruined me. Never again will I be gentle."
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"Are you listening, Angel?" Trace asked me, his tone loud and echoing through the MC's conference room.

I snapped out of my thoughts, my eyes feeling like they were weighted down with lead. I'd been awake for over 48 hours. I could barely rest after Riley kissed me, at Wolf's birthday party. Then we had a successful gun run down the coast to Florida. And then Wolf tracked Riley's car and found out she had been with the Bastards all of last night. The fucking Bastards. I had been drinking and smoking into the early morning hours. It was around 3pm now, and Trace had called all of the brothers in for club church.

"Sorry, no." I mumbled, feeling a little guilty. London and Wolf winced at me from across the table. They knew why I wasn't listening. What I was thinking about. Who I was thinking about.

"Great." Trace grumbled. He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

Wolf cleared his threat, trying to be the ever good VP. "Trace was saying that Papa and Graham are getting out of prison tomorrow or the next day. That's two more Reapers from our chapter to fight off the Bastards. This is good news for us. I don't want to call upon other chapters for help just yet." Wolf seemed to have forgotten his little hissy fit from his birthday.

I nodded furiously, of course agreeing. "Can't wait to meet them. I wish I knew more about them." I responded weakly, so fucking tired.

"Not much to tell. They both got caught beating some punks with a bat. Two years aggravated assault. Papa was older than Grim Ben and Graham Kane is one of the younger brothers. They're good people. They don't know that Gentry died in that horrible accident, so they might be a little surprised to see you. Angel." Wes responded deeply, his hoarse, loud voice catching my attention.

"Oh really. No one told them there's a new sergeant-at-arms?" I looked to Trace and Wolf, who were already staring at each other, a funny look on their faces.

"I'm sorry, Angel, it must have slipped my mind. With all the shit happening... um, with Riley back. You understand?" Trace responded, his mint eyes meeting mine and telling me there was more to that story. I nodded, dropping it. Whatever.

"Okay."

"I called everyone here to split up the money from yesterday's gun run down the coast. The AK-47s, AR's, suppressors, and full-automatics shipment made us a good chunk of change." Trace ran his hands through his dark slicked back hair, messing it up. The concerned look on his face reminded me so much of Riley. I turned my head away, making eye contact with Spider across the table.