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“She’s pretty lonely with Pharaoh gone.”
It’d only been three days since we found him. Surely, she wasn’t up to party, but if she was, my night just got better. Although, I had my eye on someone else too. “Junebug still here?”
“Yeah. She’s staying a spell.”
Satan’s other granddaughter and Memphis’s cousin from Texas was new around these parts. She got here just the other day. A few years younger than Memphis, she was a brunette just as fly. If Memphis was on the cover, Junebug would be buried in the pages behind the plastic wrap. The real treat.
“I never thought my first decision as President would be so hard,” I joked to the old man, not wanting to refuse either of his kin.
“Why not have them both?” Satan crooned. “Ah, to be young again.”
Everyone flooded in at Satan’s request. All the members from here in Nashville and a few from out of state were still catching up like our party never stopped. Amongst them were our hang arounds and sweetbutts who were really enjoying the new faces. Wiley, a scrapper from Cleveland, Ohio, brought news from Royal Bastards up North. Crow rode his motorcycle up from Tampa last week. Laid back but not taking any shit from anyone, brother fit in just fine here. Traveling just as far for the occasion, Hawk came from all the way from Ankeny, Iowa to see this place. With all the money covering it, he’d have quite a story to tell back home. Meeting my eyes, he slapped my hand as a way of a greeting. Like nothing had happened, reminding me Bubba’s antics hadn’t bothered any of them like it had me.
I felt ten times lighter.
Junebug came in on Nickel’s arm wearing nothing but her silver hot pants and pasties that she’d been dancing in earlier. Her almond hair in pigtails, she wore a matching beaded choker. Under thin brows, white shadow rimmed her big brown eyes, making her look otherworldly. Banging, her body was tan and tight where it needed to be. Under two perky orbs, her taunt navel stood out, dotted with a silver jeweled belly ring. On her arm though was a real piece of work.
A sleaze ball from the Royal Bastard’s in West Virginia, Nickel was here for the slots. Man had a major gambling problem and was just the kind of clientele we were looking for, but I wasn’t about to let him have Junebug tonight. Beside him looking menacing as ever, Murder crossed his thick arms. President of their chapter with tattoos of skulls and roses all over him, he hadn’t even looked at a woman since he got here for our Grand Opening. Albeit all the higher ups were on edge from Pharaoh’s passing. I heard the big guy had more than one woman back home. They’d planned their trip here before we learned about Pharaoh’s demise. Murder’s presence made my ascendence even more legit.
Another member of the Charleston, West Virginia chapter joined them. Jayce attracted a swarm of women. A marine he had everything the ladies here wanted, muscles, tattoos and plenty of swagger.
Satan and I stood by the stripper pole as the crowd gathered around. He clutched my shoulder. “Memphis, make sure everyone has a drink,” Satan shouted. She stepped behind the bar, but her blue eyes met mine. She gave me a possessive glare that gave me pause.
“Boy’s young,” Satan started. “He’s young enough to be some of ours son or grandson, brothers. But he’s not green. And he’s come up with the green to save Nashville.” He motioned to the room covered in money.
Someone whooped causing everyone to cheer, but Satan held up his hand.
“Heaven forbid, that be the only reason he’s our new President. No. We all know this man we named Kingpin has lived up to his name. For the last two years, our Road Captain has been the real right-hand man of Pharaoh. That mean son of a bitch. God rest his soul.”
Satan hung his head as we had a moment of silence for our late President. Before he started again Memphis walked across the stage in high heeled red leather boots wearing nothing but her gold jeweled pasties and red thong. Her long blonde haired flowed behind her making sure not to cover the double ds floating before her. Around her waist, hung a gold belly chain that trained down pointing to her prize. She handed her grandad and me a drink. Mine was a bottle of ice-cold Miller Light, but Satan had a rocks glass full of dark colored bourbon. He sniffed it before giving Memphis an approving nod. He only drank the good stuff.
Raising his glass, he said, “Just a little over two years ago, Pharaoh chose Kingpin to be Road Captain as soon as he was patched. Our deceased President told me out of the lot of you, this boy, I mean this man, Kingpin had more gall in his pinky toe than all y’all combined. Yeah, including me. And that’s saying something since we’re all evil motherfuckers. We all know being probate is hard, but Kingpin remained a prospect for a year in prison. Something unheard with the White Savior’s hold on the jails.”
Satan paused while a few of the men spit at the mention of our rivals, the local skinheads.
“And since then, Kingpin’s been the one overseeing building this here massive complex, this clubhouse on steroids while Pharaoh…Well, Pharaoh had been fighting his demons for a long while. I think we are all very well aware of that.”
The crowd muttered in agreement.
Raising his glass higher, Satan went on, “Without Kingpin’s idea for this clubhouse, we’d all still be partying out in the pig shit, out in the barn in Franklin. Thanks to our new President, Nashville Bastards are really in Nashville now.” Satan drank to that. We all did. He inclined his head and Eightball, our enforcer, produced Pharaoh’s colors and handed them up on the stage. Satan held the cut out to me.
Without a second thought of the blood speckling it, I slipped off my own and donned Pharaoh’s leather vest. It fit like a glove. Looking down, I noticed one of the ol’ ladies had already switched the patch that said Pharaoh’s name to mine.
“Brothers, friends, I give you our new President, Kingpin.”
My ears rang with the applause of my brothers, of everyone.
Chapter 2
Still 20 Years ago
Kingpin
“Speech,” someone shouted.
I held up my beer. “Fuck, brothers, ladies, I’m fucking honored.” The noise grew as people cheered again, but I got louder. “Let’s hear it for our Vice President, the notorious, Satan. I hear the man downstairs was named for him.” The old man bowed a bit and carefully got off the stage.
“What are we naming this place?” Someone shouted out.
