Page 21 of The Originals

“Oh shit, Mack don’t look happy,” Dove said, straightening his back and staring at the front door.

Mick, along with the others, looked over. The VP, Mack, and a few others, had come back from their run. Dove’s statement was accurate. Mack stormed in, pointing to the back hall where they gathered for their meetings. Something must’ve gone wrong.

As the members at the bar stood, Jack glanced over, looking at Meg, then Mick. A verbal order was unnecessary. Jack alwayscalled a meeting immediately after a job. Everything else was pushed to the side. In Mick’s case that meant leaving Meg by herself.

Mick rested his hand on her thigh, and she jerked toward him. Mick ground his teeth, silently cursing. She was already nervous and out of her element. And he was going to compound that by leaving her alone at the bar. It wasn’t lost on Mick that he was about to go back on his word he’d given her an hour earlier.

“Where’s everyone going?” she asked, her eyes darting around the room.

Mick squeezed her leg, gaining her attention. “Got a quick meeting. Won’t be more than fifteen minutes. You stay here, have another drink.”

When he stood, dropping his hand from her leg, she grabbed it.

“You’re leaving?” There was a small shake in her voice, which only added to his guilt. Before he could respond, Grain called him.

“Mick! Let’s fucking go. Waiting on you, brother.”

Mick ignored Grain and leaned in, brushing his lips against hers while pulling his hand from her hold. “Fifteen minutes. Tops.”

Mick kissed her again quickly and rounded her back. He walked through the doorway in the rear of the room and down the narrow hallway. When they’d found the building for their clubhouse, they’d done a lot of construction. Three rooms at the far end of the house were converted into one large room designed for holding members’ meeting.

Mick walked in, heading straight to his seat next to Jack. As VP, Mack usually sat on the other side of the president, but he was currently pacing around the room. Mack dragged his hands over his head.

“How’d it go?” Jack asked.

Mick bit back a smile. Jack’s casual tone was the opposite of Mack’s rage-filled demeanor. In all fairness, Mack was a hothead and tended to bring a lot of unnecessary drama. Mick had no doubt, after years of it, Jack regretted making Mack his VP.

Mack turned, glaring. “How’d it fucking go? That’s what you asked? A gunfight, Jack, that’s how it fucking went.”

Mick stilled, as did every member in the room. Except Jack. He settled into his chair, eyeing Mack and the others who’d been on the run.

“You good?” Jack asked.

A few brothers nodded, and Dunn answered. “Yeah, we’re good, Jack.”

Jack’s priority had always been keeping his men safe.

Mack stalked to the table and grabbed the back of a chair, white-knuckling it.

“What happened?” Jack asked.

“Fucking shot at!” Mack screamed and spread his arms. He was obviously worked up and rightfully so. “Been telling you this for the last fucking year, Jack. Got a lot of new clubs forming, looking to make a name for themselves. We gotta make ourselves known.”

Ghosttown Riders MCwasknown. It was the largest club in the state and the most feared. But there had been a shift in the last year. Their days as “every club for themselves” were coming to an end. Groups were aligning, making them stronger in numbers. If the smaller clubs banded together outnumbering Ghosttown, that would be an issue.

There’d also been concerns about these clubs taking over jobs originally earmarked for Ghosttown at a lower pay rate. Making money was always a priority but not the cornerstone for the club. Even so, over the last few years the tide had turned in their criminal activity. They voted to take riskier jobs for largerpayouts. No one was willing to let another club come in and take what was rightfully Ghosttown’s.

Being one of Jack’s closest allies, Mick was privy to information not all members had. Jack knew what was happening. But he was weighing his options, wanting to lead the club in the best and safest direction. As the years had gone on, it was a harder feat. Groups were already staking claim over territory. The honor system was fading out.

“Where?” Jack asked.

Mack pressed his fists into his hips and sighed. “Up by Lawry.”

Mick shared a look with Jack. The state was basically divided into thirds. Ghosttown claimed the lower section of the state, which spanned the rural areas all the way up to Blacksburg. It wasn’t as big of a city as Lawry, but it was growing. It was a decent claim for the club.

The up-state area was run by Inez, who capitalized on drug running. Many people doubted her ability, even mocked her efforts. But it was a foolish perception that neither Mick nor Jack bought into.Mark my words, Inez is building an empire.

The middle section of the state, and by far the largest and most lucrative domain, was run by Sal Caruso. While the club didn’t function under a command mentality, everyone had to answer to someone. It was common knowledge that Sal, who ran the Underground, ruled the state. Up until now, everyone had honored the others’ territories, but times were changing.