The Saints' Devil

XLVIII

"Are you kidding me?" Charlie asked Frank, her eyes suddenly going wide as she looked up at him. She looked over at Max, his eyes still holding nothing but pain. "And this is also the same guy who's trying to take the club from you?" Frank said nothing but she knew. Her eyes narrowed at Max harshly, glaring at him. "Of all the family that had to be left, why'd it have to be another asshole?"

Max looking away from her which only seemed to anger her more. She was trying to keep her cool, but the shit that had been happening to the club lately was damn near exhausting and this, this was just ridiculous.

"How about you tell us why exactly Frank isn't fit to be President?" Charlie snapped, stepping forward and crossing her arms over her chest. "You all sit here and drink and carry on all fucking day long while Frank has been cleaning up the mess you all started. We all have been fighting for this club while you old assholes jerk off and cackle the day away."

"Why I outta--"

"You outta, what?" Charlie snapped at the man who tried to speak against her. "If you guys are the forefathers, then you're more pathetic than I thought. The Saints look up to all of you and, standing here, I can't see why."

"Lower your tone," Max said.

Her hateful glare shot towards him and he shut his mouth. "You know, I was hoping that just maybe I would have one family member who was like my mom. Turns out, you're just like them."

"We came and saved your asses!" Max snapped. 

"After how many fucking days?" she retorted his mouth shutting yet again. "Are you kidding me? Ryan came to you and asked for your help because your President you all elected turned on the club and even killed one of your members and it still took a long time to decide whether you should save your club or not. You guys are Saints, Saints for life. You were ready to lay your lives down for the club before, why was it such a hard decision now? What? Just 'cause you guys are retired?" she scoffed. "Once a Saint, always a Saint. Maybe you should re-evaluate yourselves before you question Frank's leadership."

The room was incredibly silent for the longest time and then, suddenly, someone started hysterically laughing. A man, in the back, stood to his feet, clapping and laughing joyously, walking up to where Charlie stood. 

"I can't believe you're that girl I picked up in pieces not too long ago," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and smiling brightly at her. "You're one badass chick, Frank's a lucky bastard."

"Michael, what the fuck are you doing?" Max snapped.

"Can't we knock this shit off already?" Michael asked, turning to his brothers. "So many rules and regulations and bleugh--" he said, sticking his tongue out in disgust. "What the hell happened to being part of the club? Don't you see how fuckin' strong this new generation is? You should be proud, Max, this one right here was on her fuckin' death bed and look at her now, she's standing up for a crew she's hardly been with. We had our fun fuckin' with 'em."

Max snickered and soon he was laughing hysterically. "Alright, alright. You can keep your position boy."

"Before that, will the forefathers change their ways?" Ryan suddenly asked, the room going quiet for a moment.

"I think it's about time we do," Max said, looking at Charlie with such pride. "Like she said, once a Saint always a Saint. We'd do best not to forget that."

The room cheered, the dark and menacing vibe before completely dissipating as everyone welcomed the idea more than anything else. 

"But, one thing--" he stopped. "Actually two things. You need a new Vice and--" he smirked down at Charlie and then up at Frank. "Will you make her Queen already?"

Frank only nodded once and the room erupted into sudden cheers. 

"Before we start drinking, who will be your new vice boy? Forefathers must witness who will take the role once held by Eagle," Max said, looking Frank in the eye. 

"Oh come on, don't put him on the spot like that," Drake said, slapping Frank on the back and laughing joyously. 

Frank stood there for a moment, deep in thought as the room filled with laughs of joy. He knew who should be Vice. It wasn't even a question, the minute the question was asked he knew exactly who he wanted to take the role. If anything happened to him this member would be in charge, this member would be his right hand. 

"Drake," was all Frank said, and the laughter seized. 

"What? Did you decide?" Drake asked, the rest of the men shaking their heads and chuckling at Drake's obliviousness.

"You're my vice," Frank said, looking over at him. 

Drake was speechless. He looked up at Frank with his mouth agape and Charlie laughed at him. Ryan slapped Drake on the back, smiling brightly. "Snap outta it vice. Cat got your tongue?"

"Me?" Drake asked in bewilderment, pointing to himself. Frank nodded, Drake still standing there completely shocked and speechless.

"We witness," Max said, all of the forefathers nodding their heads. 

Drake's eyes sudden pooled with tears and he hugged Frank, for the first time ever, shocking Frank. Charlie doubled over with laughter at Frank's tenseness. 

"Pull yourself together idiot," Frank snapped to him. 

"I can't believe it!" Drake said, crying like a baby. "You want me to be your vice? Me?"

"Did I fuckin' stutter?"

Drake continued to hug him and the room just erupted into cheers. Everyone began to drink and converse, the forefathers talking with the Saints and joking with them. It was like the tension they had before flew out the window and they were all family. 

Today had opened the door to a new version of the Saints, a better version.

Hey guys!

I'm going to try my best to keep up with updates. I love and appreciate you all so very much, thank you--as always--for your constant support. 

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With love,
D. M. Brightwell