73 - Church

_Fix it. Or I’m taking a page out of Alana’s book and fucking one of your men. – Sid_



The three Saints stood in a corner at the front of the shed that the Cajuns used as a chapel. The large outbuilding with no insulation and window unit air conditioners sitting in holes cut into the wood was a drastic change from the chapels that they were used to. Metal folding chairs were being set up as the Cajuns came in and huddled in their regular groups.



The chapel at Pops Place was a large room with a few tables sprinkled around among the padded chairs. A long table sat at the front of the room for the officers. The chairs were usually clumped together in groups of four or five.



Meanwhile, at the Shack, the Lowery’s usually grouped together. The trio and their tattoo and piercing artists usually sat towards the end. The older club brothers would sit in the same place at the long folding tables, leaving the younger brothers to sit behind them. Young prospects were usually left standing against the walls.



Here, there was a single table at the front of the building that was used by the officers. There were chairs folded up and leaning against the side walls of the room. Some brothers stood while others sat in small circles. They all seemed to be responsible for getting their own chairs. And most likely were responsible for getting them put back at the end of the meeting.



Werewolf placed his canned soda on one of the horizontal two by fours that added support and bracing between the exposed studs. Utilizing the fact that the host club brothers were giving the Saints a wide berth, the three of them spoke softly among themselves.



“Keep the Worm out,” Werewolf chuckled. “You’re making her sound like a nineteen-year-old assassin.”



Dutch scoffed, “Best friends with your Priss and youngest female prospect.”



“True. You saw how pissed she was,” Spider smirked. “Given half the chance, I could see her shooting their nuts off.”



Dutch nodded, “She was pissed enough in Vegas to give up her colors.”



“And her loyal friends were pissed enough for her to follow suit.” Werewolf added as Gator and Stone entered the large shed and made their way to the front.



With the officers starting to gather at the front of the room, the three fell silent. The conversations around the area stopped, and the silence was stifling as Camille was the last to enter the shed.



“Fuck,” Dutch muttered under his breath as the crowd shifted, and he had a clear view of his sister.



“What’s up?” Werewolf asked as Gator joined them.



“Shit,” Spider shook his head as he saw what the other man had seen.



“Yup,” Dutch agreed. “She changed her gun; she has her revolver and quick-load on the belt.”



“What’s with the revolver?” Gator asked.



Dutch met the other man’s gaze and gave a smirk. “A revolver keeps your brass. Less evidence.”



“Less clean up, easier to move away,” Werewolf added. “Plus, with that revolver, she can re-rifle or replace the barrel.”



“_Zus_,” Dutch called, and Camille turned her attention to where the Saints stood.



“_Broer_,” she smiled as she walked over. They spoke in Dutch for a few minutes and then Werewolf chuckled at something that Dutch said as he jerked a thumb over at Spider. The man shrugged and Camille laughed.



“You understand what they’re saying?” Gator asked.



“Not a word, well,” he corrected himself, “one word. Spinnekop. Spider. That’s me.”



“Veervolf,” Werewolf said, “spelled with W even though you say V.”



“Verm,” Camille pointed at herself, “also spelled with a W but pronounced with a V.”



“Is that German?” Gator asked.



“Nope,” Dutch grinned, “it’s me, Dutch.”



Gator nodded, “Well, you said you had something to tell the club?”



“We do,” Werewolf confirmed with a hard glare, all amusement gone.



Gator stepped back and called the room to attention. The few soft conversations that had started up again, stopped and everyone focused their attention on the president.



“We have some Saints here that need to tell us something,” Gator motioned for the Saints to join him. “Give them your respect.”



Dutch grabbed his sister’s arm and pulled her with them.



“You know the Worm,” Werewolf motioned to Camille. “This is her brother Dutch, and I’m Werewolf. That ugly fucker,” he grinned at Spider, who flipped him off, “is the enforcer for Worm’s home club, Spider.”



Werewolf stepped back and motioned to Spider that he had the floor.



“Thanks, wolfy,” Spider said as he stepped up and the other man chuckled. “Now, I can’t make a point quite like that little girl can,” he said as he pulled the Smith and Wesson Model 29 out of the back of his waist band. “But I can still make a pretty good point with my own personal Dirty Harry.”



Zydeco stepped forward and found the barrel of the gun in his face.



“You have disrespected my club sister for the last time.”



Swallowing hard, Zydeco put his hands up in surrender. Not dropping his eyes, he stepped back.



“I don’t know about you assholes,” Werewolf said as he pulled out a cigar and nipped off the end, “but I’ve got money on that woman losing her virginity before her next trip home.”



 “Fuck me,” Camille said, pulling out her phone.



“No, I think we all got our money on Darkness,” her older brother said as Werewolf lit his cigar before he and Spider both confirmed.



“Hey, girl!” Book’s voice echoed from her phone. “You shed any blood today?”



“Not yet,” she rolled her eyes. “But there’s still lots of hours until midnight.”



“Shit, girl, now you sound like Dom.” He chuckled from his end of the line.



“What are your numbers on me?”



“Ummm….”



“Book, I swear to God, you jerk me off, and I’m going to call my godfather.”



“Damn it, girl,” he huffed. “You want specific numbers? Or you just want to know what the bets are?”



“Give me a run-down of it,” she motioned to Werewolf to ‘give me’ and he handed her the cigar.



“Everybody is either going to break even or no one is going to make money on the who, only one person is betting against Darkness.”



Camille looked at Dutch and they shared a chuckle. “Dad, celibate,” they both said.



“No, your dad has money on Darkness too,” Book told them. “One of the bunnies here said you were going to go lesbo.”



“Nah,” after another draw, she handed the cigar back. “Brea has some mad tongue skills, I’ll give her that, but not enough to switch teams.”



Grinning, Spider held up a hand for a high-five. “She is good with her mouth.”



Camille gave a small laugh as she slapped his palm. “Yeah, she is.”



“Seriously?” Dutch asked.



“I was horny and most of the guys back home either see me as a sister or a daughter. What the fuck did you expect me to do?”



“Naughty Claus?” Werewolf suggested and she cocked an eyebrow at him. “Okay, you make a good point.”



“Keep going, Book,” Spider ordered.



“Of course there’s the date of the big cherry pop, and because you are your mother’s daughter, if you take it up the ass.”



“Yeah, that’s fair,” she said with a shrug.



Spider turned and looked at Werewolf, “Does Charlotte?”



“That’s my sister!” Dutch objected as Werewolf just grinned.



“She does,” Camille shifted and leaned against the table. “But usually only when she’s been drinking or had some brownies.”



“How the hell do you know so much about your sister’s sex life?” Peanut asked.



The four Saints laughed and three spoke in rapid fire Dutch until Camille was doubled over in laughter and the other two leaning against the nearby wall.



“I only caught like half of one word of that,” Book said, “but I’m guessing it had something to do with the bar contest?”



“Yes,” Camille said as she straightened up. “You’ll love this, Book. When I got down here, they tried to protect my innocence and kept everything mild and behind closed doors.”



“Well, fuck,” Spider laughed. “That had to suck for a little voyeur like you.”



She grinned at the Danny Trejo double. “Live porn is the best porn.”



“Hell yeah!” Swamp Thang agreed loudly.



“Who the hell told them that you were innocent?” Spider asked.



“It sure as hell wasn’t me,” Dutch declared.



“Oh, since you’re here,” she smiled at her oldest brother, “Candy likes two at a time.”



“It’s a good thing that I have a sweet tooth,” he grinned at his sister before looking at Spider. “What about you?”



“I never turn down any type of Candy.”



“Oh, I got that for you, too,” Book chuckled.



“I am not climbing the Eiffel Tower between my brother and an old man.”



“Multiple or single.” Book clarified. “And your crown is in danger.”



“The fuck it is.”