“So he’ll need replacing?”
“Eventually, yeah,” he murmured, glancing down at me. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m just thinking out loud really.”
“As always.”
“Not rising to it.”
He smirked as he pushed the door open for me and gestured for me to go first. “What were you thinking?”
“Well… Would Trent or Chris not want the job?”
He paused and looked down at me. “If they want it, they can certainly ask. It would be put to a vote.”
“But you’ve already chosen your men for when you become president.”
“That’s true. Crash likes to keep everyone as involved as possible. He puts everything to a vote, so that no one thinks he’s throwing his weight around. If the club really wanted to, I’d put it to a vote as well, but it’s been me and Vienna for as long as I can remember. I don’t think anyone would ever doubt that I’d want him as vice.”
“What about Shark and Hacksaw?”
“Same deal, but they’ve not been around as long as Vienna. The club knows how we work together, though. I doubt a vote is needed at this point. We’ve basically been running things for a long time now.”
“Rachel!” a shrill voice shrieked, interrupting any further conversation.
“That will be my beloved Rebecca,” I murmured at Dante as my mother came flying towards us.
“How could you? Honestly, Rachel, you’re so selfish! How could you keep me locked up here all night?” She hissed at me. “I asked that… thatbruteover there—”
“Over where?”
“There!” she hissed, pointing at Ant.
Oh. For once, she might actually have a point.
Ant was borderline psychotic. I had barely spoken to him, and if I’m being honest, he made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end whenever he was near me. But he was fiercely loyal to the club, and never, ever shied away from conflict.
I had once won him at a game of pool, and I thought he was going to smash the stick over my head. His face had broken out into a grin at the last minute, but for a while there, I wasmentally calculating how fast I could punch him in the face and run to safety.
“That’s Ant,” Dante said innocently, suppressing a smile.
“That’s a pig!” My mother spat back, jabbing her finger into his chest. “I asked him if I could go to the bathroom, and he walked away without saying a word! Then came back with a bucket and said he didn’t mind standing guard to make sure no one watched!”
“Maybe the bathroom was occupied?” I suggested.
“Maybe you should get more bathrooms then!”
“Bit rich from someone who doesn’t currently even have a house, never mind a bathroom,” I snapped back.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Hers.”
“His.”
Dante and I spoke at the same time, both pointing at the other.
“Oh, fuck off. It’s not my fault you set fire to her house!”
