Jax shouted the loudest, feigning absolute outrage. “I knew it!” Jax bellowed, pointing fiercely at Arthur. “I told you, Bear! That old junkie planted it! He was probably trying to set you up for a quick payout from the cops!”
“Shut up, Jax,” Bear said.
The command wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a machete. The yelling ceased immediately.
Bear turned his massive head slowly, locking his terrifying gaze onto his vice president.
Jax froze, his hand still hovering in the air. “Boss... I’m just saying—”
“I didn't ask what you were saying,” Bear interrupted, his voice dropping to a gravelly, vibrating pitch. He pulled his phone from his pocket and set it on the table. “You see, Arthur didn't plant it. Arthur sleeps out back. He was the only one awake at three in the morning when a diesel dually truck rolled in with its headlights off.”
Jax’s face drained of color. The artificial confidence vanished, replaced by a twitching, naked panic.
“Arthur watched our inside man slice my padding and plant the bug,” Bear continued, never taking his eyes off Jax. “And since Arthur didn't have proof, I had to go find it. Tiny, bring in the bag.”
From the doorway, the giant Sergeant-at-Arms stepped forward and tossed Jax’s black duffel bag onto the table. It landed with a heavy, expensive thud.
Jax stepped back, his eyes darting frantically toward the door.
Bear unzipped the bag. He pulled out the thick stack of federal hundreds and the black burner phone, tossing them next to the bugged helmet.
“I broke your locker, Jax,” Bear said softly. The disappointment in his voice was heavier than the anger. “I read the texts. I saw the down payment the feds gave you to sell me out. You figured I'd get twenty years, and you’d take the gavel by midnight.”
The silence in the room was absolute, deafening, and completely lethal.
Fifteen pairs of eyes shifted from the cash, to the phone, and finally to Jax. The men Jax had supposedly led, the brothers he was supposed to protect, were staring at him with cold, murderous betrayal.
“Bear, listen to me,” Jax stammered, raising both hands, pressing his back against the wall. “They cornered me! The feds, they had a warrant on my kid’s house! I didn't have a choice, man, they were gonna put my boy away!”
“So you traded my life for yours,” Bear said coldly.
“It was just business!” Jax pleaded, looking wildly around the table for support, but finding only stone-faced killers. “You were taking the club soft, Bear! We’re outlaws! We’re supposed to take what we want, not sign real estate contracts!”
“We’re supposed to be brothers,” Bear corrected.
Bear picked up the heavy wooden gavel from the head of the table.
“The evidence is on the table,” Bear announced. “The penalty for treason against the president and the patch is stripped exile. All in favor?”
Every single man around the table raised a hand. There was no hesitation. No debate.