Page 15 of Savage Angels
“Strip clubs, tattoo parlors, garages, real estate… it’s where we should be focusing our efforts,” I continue. “This way, we can build something legit for our families and future generations. Grinders Transport is mine, but I’m willing to share but only to those who are willing to step away from drugs and guns.”
Judge says, “Grinders Transport is the perfect way to move drugs and guns.”
“It’s not the way. Not anymore,” I say.
“Judge is right. We just need to spin it in a language we all understand.” Jonas smirks. “Making money without the constant threat of prison or death? Count me in, and most of us will feel the same.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Bear adds, clapping me on the shoulder. “You lead, we follow, brother.” But Dirt looks uneasy, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. I can see the conflict in his eyes, and I know he has something on his mind.
“Speak up, Dirt,” I say gently. “We’re family here, brother. If you have concerns, we need to hear them.”
“Ah, fuck.,” He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s just… I’m getting older, Dane. Sometimes I wonder how much longer I can keep doing this shit.”
“You used to say age isn’t anything but a number, man.” Bear grins at him. “Besides, we aren’t talking about riding into battle. We’re talking about building a better future for us and our families.”
“I know, I know,” Dirt admits. “Just sometimes… it all feels like too much, y’know?”
“Hey,” I clap him on his good shoulder. “We’ve been through hell and back together. You aren’t alone in this, brother. We’ll figure it out.”
Dirt nods, but I have known him for a long time, and something is not right.
“Are we all on the same page? Ready to face whatever comes our way and build a better future for our club?”
They nod, and Bear raises his fist high. These men are in my inner circle, and if they agree with me, then I know most in the MC will come along for the ride, but there will be some, like Dirt, who don’t want to change the old ways.
***
The Chicago chapter clubhouse is overflowing with Savage Angels MC members—those who are patched in and prospects—no outsiders, no women. This is the moment to strike, to rally them for the battles ahead with the Abruzzis and internally, getting them to let go of the old ways.
“Brothers, we stand here as one, united under the banner of the Savage Angels. We’ve faced countless challenges, fought through blood and tears, and always come out stronger. Our enemies may try to break us, but they’ll learn it isn’t possible.” I slam my fist on the table. “Every single one of you is essential to this club. Each of you brings something unique, and together, we’re unstoppable. No matter what, we have each other’s backs, and that’s our greatest strength. So, let’s show those bastards what we’re made of.”
“Fuck yeah!” Jonas roars, followed by the rest of the brothers, their voices thundering like a force of nature.
“Remember,” I say as I look around the room. “This isn’t just about us… it’s about our families, our loved ones, and the future we’re building for them. We fight not just for ourselves but for everyone who depends on us.”
“Damn right, brother,” Judge replies, his voice firm and steady.
“All right then, let’s get to work,” I command. “We’ve got a lot to do, and time’s ticking. Stay sharp, and remember, we are the Savage Angels, and nothing can tear us apart.”
“Fuckin’ A!” Bear shouts, pumping his fist in the air.
“Tomorrow will be a day to test us all,” I say, watching as they disperse, each heading off to tackle their assigned tasks. I know they will give it their all, and this knowledge fills me with pride.
As for me, well, I have my own part to play—one that will test me like never before. But I am ready, willing, and able to face whatever comes my way.
***
The clubhouse door slams shut, leaving me alone with my thoughts in the dimly lit hallway. I run a hand through my hair and let out a deep breath, trying to steady the storm raging in my chest.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, leaning against the wall for support as the weight of responsibility settles heavily on my shoulders. These men, my brothers, are putting their lives on the line for the club and me, and I can’t help but feel grateful for their unwavering loyalty. But that gratitude is tempered by worry for my beautiful wife, Kat, and our kids, who are still in hiding.
Pushing away from the wall, I walk over to the small gym they have set up in the back of the clubhouse. The familiar smell of sweat and determination fills the air, reminding me of all the hours I’ve spent pushing my body to its limits. If I am going to come out of this fight alive, I need to be at my best, mentally and physically.
Rolling my shoulders to loosen them up, I wrap my hands in tape. My fists connect with the heavy bag, each strike sending a jolt of energy coursing through my veins. As I fall into the rhythm of the workout, my thoughts drift back to Kat—her green eyes that sparkle with defiance and her light brown hair streaked with sun-kissed blonde. She is my rock, my anchor in the storm, and I know that no matter how tough things get, she will always be by my side.
Each strike fuels my determination as I continue to pummel the heavy bag. I know whatever awaits us in the upcoming conflict, I am ready to face it head-on. I will lead my club to victory or die trying.
***