The Saints' Devil

XXV

It took Frank only a couple hours before he was being detached from the wires and needles and allowed to stand. Charlie helped him put on his overalls, the two of them taking this small chance of privacy to kiss and embrace each other before going back to face Fury at the clubhouse. 

Frank put his mask back on, Charlie looking at him with proud. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," he said, rolling his stiff shoulders one last time before leaving the infirmary.

He opened the door and stepped out, stopping dead in his tracks as the entire club stood outside waiting for him, looking at him with the same pride Charlie looked at him with. They all, almost in unison, lifted their right fists and pounded their chest, over their heart. It was what they did when they greeted their President and all of them were doing it. 

He was shocked, to say the least. Him President? Could he do it?

"You're the only man we'd follow with honor. We spent too long being cowards against Fury, you are the real President of this club, you always have been," Ryan said, nodding to Frank, all of them nodding as well.

"And Charlie is the only Queen we'd ever follow," said Drake, smiling brightly at the two, Frank chuckling lightly. 

"Let us begin a new and better era of the Saints," Eagle said, smiling at Frank.

Frank nodded to them, rolling his shoulders one more time. "Let's ride," he said to them and they all hollered excitedly, moving and leaving the building to where all their bikes were parked.

"They trashed my bike," Frank said, looking at the burnt motorcycle he once recognized.

"You can right with me, Slipknot," Charlie said, dangling a pair of keys in front of him.

He lifted his gaze, catching sight of Fury's prized possession. His eyebrows shot up and he shook his head, smiling through his mask. "Hey, let me drive," he called to her, catching up to her in a few quick strides.

"No way!" she said, moving the keys away from his reach. "You're the crippled one. I can drive."

He let out a breath of defeat and gave in, climbing into the Mustang, his tall frame causing his head to hit the roof of the car and his knees to hit the dashboard. Charlie climbed into the drivers seat and laughed at him.

"Quit with yer laughin' and drive," he said.

She laughed again. "Yes, Mr. President."

Charlie revved the engine and sped out of the parking lot, zooming down the road, the rest of the members following close behind them. "This ain't Grand Theft Auto, don't kill us before we even get there," Frank grumbled.

"Puh-lease," she exacerbated. "I see how you ride your motorcycle, you go faster than me all the time."

He shook his head at her. This was the first time he was glad to be alive. They rode like hell back to the clubhouse and Charlie pulled into the Garage, parking the car while the rest of the members parked in front of the clubhouse.

Charlie and Frank exited the truck, Frank walking with a different type of confidence. He headed straight for the clubhouse, ready to knock some sense into Fury but the clubhouse was empty and dead silent. The rest of the members went looking for him, but Frank stood in Fury's office, finding only one thing left in there.

A family picture with Fury, Charlie, and their parents, when they were younger and happier. A knife tacked it to the wall and only their mothers face was scratched out, the rest of the faces left untouched.

Frank stared at it for the longest time. He remembered what Fury had told him.

"Our dad died from alcohol poisoning."

He was confused. If the only face scratched out was their mothers and she had passed then did that mean that their father was still alive? This was no doubt a final threat from Fury before he fled. Frank knew that if he left a message like this behind then he was bound to return. When, where, and with who, he didn't know, but an attack was going to be coming from him.

"What is that?" Charlie said, her voice quivering at the sight of her father in the picture. "Our father is dead, why did he only scratch out our mothers?"

"It's a threat," Frank said, moving over to rip the knife from the wall, the picture remaining on the knife as he examined it. A single note was left behind on the back of it and Frank's accusations were true.

"You have not seen the last of us."

Their father was alive. It was true now, but what Fury was doing with the man who abused him and how he managed to convince everyone he was dead was befuddling. This was only the beginning of his roller coaster ride as President but he was not going to allow Fury to ruin the club nor Charlie anymore.

Frank stepped out into the bar where the members had gathered.

"The minute any one of you see any sign of Fury you report it to me, got it?" Frank called, his voice loud and assertive. "Whoever wants to volunteer to do some digging step forward now. Fury's planing something big."

A few men stepped forward without hesitation and Frank went right into game-plans.

Charlie stood by Drake, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at Frank with adoration. This assertive side of him was extremely attractive, it was a sight she could get used to seeing. He looked good as President, as if he had finally found his calling.

"He's acting like a true President," Drake said, watching Frank in amazement as well. "Fury never did stuff like this. Frank was meant for this."

"Yeah," Charlie said, smiling happily at him and looking at him with so much pride. "He really is."

Hello everyone!

Thank you so much for your countless support. I absolutely love your guys' comments and your kind words towards my book. I want to let you know now that there will most likely be one more update (maybe, maybe not) and then I will be unable to update for the rest of the weekend.

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D. M. Brightwell