Trial By Fire - Bouncing Back, Book 1

Twenty-Five

Kennedy eyed the men around her, trying to focus on who would be best suited to the task of taking on temporary presidency of the Scorpions. She cleared her throat, drawing their attention back to her. "I'm having a difficult time trying to fix everything up before I take time away from all this to get through my current condition."

One of the men knocked on the table, "What condition? That mafia doc said you were perfectly healthy."

"Oh, I am, but I'm also pregnant," she announced. "As all of you are aware, Memphis Slade and I got together several months ago. This time next month, we will be getting married. If that bothers you, meet me on the corner of f**k Around Avenue and Find Out Street. I'm not putting up with anyone's BS, and I won't hesitate to kill anyone who thinks they can betray me."

The man leaned back in his chair. "What happens after the babe is born?"

She turned her eyes to the next one that spoke, "Once I'm back on my feet, I’m confiscating one of the chop shops. I will be attending college for mechanics in order to turn the building into a legit business, and no one is to say a God damn thing about it."

Another man laughed, "If there's no objection, I'd like to put forward a motion."

"Go ahead, Blue," Kennedy said calmly.

"Make Memphis there your Vice," the man said. "He's young, strong, and reliable. Since he's your Old Man, it's only right he have some power."

His eyes wide, Memphis looked at Kenni. "If the Chapters cool with it, I got no problem keeping things under wraps for you."

Grinning, Kennedy put her loaded gun on the chipped wooden table in front of her. "I dare anyone here to complain. It'll be the last f*****g thing you ever say, understand me?"

"We got all kinds in our crew, Queen," a woman said from the now opened door.

Kenni looked up, a small smile gracing her features, “Hey, Bells. Are you coming to the wedding?”

Tall, curvaceous, and beautiful with a bold sense of humour, Bella didn’t sugar-coat anything. She put a tray of beers on the table before handing Kennedy a glass of orange juice. “I expect an invite, Chère.”

"Thanks, Bells," Kennedy said.

The woman nodded, "No problem, honey. You just gimme a shout if there's anything else you need. We Boss Bitches got to look out for each other, no?"

“I like your attitude, Bells,” Kennedy laughed. When the room was quiet once again, she took a sip of the juice. Setting the glass back down, she turned her glare to the men around her. "Is the MC my father left me full of pathetic imbeciles who don't know how to utter a simple thank you.”

One of the younger men scoffed, "They're our bitches. We talk, and they listen.”

Kennedy grabbed her gun and fired it without hesitation. She watched in complete disinterest as he squealed in shock, dropping to the floor as blood seeped out of the wound. He whimpered as she stood over him, the rest of the room in complete shock while she pressed the still-hot barrel of the gun to the man’s temple. “Please… I won’t do it again. Please, have mercy?”

"That was just a warning, Brady," Kennedy advised. "The next one is going in your head. If any of you think I'm merciful, think again. You will respect me, and you will start now. The women in our ranks keep this place clean and running smoother than you ever could. You’re an i***t to think that I can’t take you. Mercy? Don’t make me laugh. Cross me again, and you’re going to find yourself in an early grave."

Brady nodded violently from the floor. He knew then that he'd crossed her invisible line of tolerance, and it didn't look good for him. "I didn't mean to diss you, Queen. I’m really sorry."

"Shut your f*****g mouth, and sit the hell down," she snapped. "This ain't no book club meet and greet, asshole."

Her uncle smirked from his place at the table. "Like father, like daughter."

"Aye, Mate," another said. "Francis said somethin' similar ‘bout twenty years ago."

"Ryder, you’re an established Elder. What's your stance on my man taking over?" Kennedy asked suddenly.

The older man blinked hard. It was the first time in a long time that anyone had asked his opinion. "I've ridden with Memphis. Like you, he’s mafia-raised, and he knows how to get s**t done. That's what we need in a Vice."

Memphis nodded toward his woman. "Kenni's got a deadly trigger finger, but she excels at torturing people that cross her. In fact, she’s the one who slowly tortured Fabian Devons to death a few months back for the murder of her parents.”

Kennedy grinned evilly, "Memphis is not kidding. I enjoy making people who do me wrong suffer in the worst ways possible. I like making them scream, making them beg for non-existent mercy. It’s exhilarating to know that their lives, at least what’s left to it, are in my hands. Does anyone want a demonstration?"

She smiled sweetly, making the men around her shiver in fear.

"I'll do it, Ken," Memphis declared. If it saved them trouble and the men were suggesting him anyway, he would take the chance. "If I have any issues, don't be surprised if the numbers drop in your absence. I shoot first and ask questions later."

"We ain't had no vote," someone complained.

Getting to her feet, she motioned for Memphis to hold the man's hand down on the table. Pulling out the butterfly knife Declan had given her years ago, she pressed the blade against the first digit of his pinky. Several of the men backed off, suddenly afraid now that they knew her better.

Her uncle and the other senior members looked on in silence, knowing that she was asserting her dominance over the gang. Something her father had no issues with, either.

"What was that, Winston?" She pressed in an even tone. Swallowing, the man backtracked on his words. Removing the knife, she tapped the side of his face mockingly. "That's what I thought."

She returned to her seat and sighed. "Memphis is now our Vice-Prez, and I don't want to hear any complaining. Am I clear?"

There was a chorus of yes's before she dismissed them from the room. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel someone walking up behind her. She inhaled sharply, taking in the woodsy cologne.

Looking up, she watched her uncle nod. “What’s up?”

"You did well tonight, sweetheart. I ain’t seen them straighten up that fast since your daddy's days as our leader."

"Was Dad just as ruthless?" She wondered, wanting to know if he was where her violent streak came from.

"Sure was," Axel said as he sat at the table with her.

Ryder laughed, "I can't believe I get to live through two generations of Rubin's leading the club. You're everything your father wanted you to be."

"As long as no one gives me and Memphis any s**t, you may live to see my heir come into power." She commented as she got to her feet and pulled her leather jacket back on.

As they slid into her jeep, they breathed a sigh of relief.

"That went far better than I expected it to," she muttered. "Once we marry, I’m transferring half of the club to your name, Memphis. By the way, if you thought that I didn't know your mother cleaned out your father before leaving, you're mistaken."

His eyes fell to the dash as he fired up the engine. He hadn’t been aware that she knew of their issues. Yet, she waited to call him on it until they were alone. He was awed by the fact that her sass was entertaining, but her class was humbling.

Shaking his head, he said, "She actually tried to take everything from him, but Dad outsmarted her. With Trace’s help, he put the house in Living Trust for me, and made sure all his assets were left to me. His will is solid, and she was unable to fight it in court because it was a notarized document. Dad worked hard to get his bank account out of the deep red because of her. I think he’s worried you're going to do the same to me, and that’s why he tried to push you away. He’s got trust issues when it comes to women because of how my mother did him wrong."

"That’s cold," she gasped. "How could she just leave him like that? And, for the record, I know how to get off my ass to earn my money, so I don’t need anything like that from your father. I get that he’s got issues, but I don’t run from my responsibilities. Dec would kick my ass into the next century.”

“Don’t put anything in my name, Kennedy. Going into it, what’s yours is yours and what’s mine is mine. Anything we create after can be split, but we don’t need each other’s assets, Ken.” He grunted.

She glanced over at him. Despite both coming from broken homes, neither was relenting to the other in some things. “Okay, so you’re saying we both keep our previous assets separate from our marital assets?”

“Yes. We don’t need a prenup when we can just agree like we’re doing now.” He told her.

Glancing over at him expectantly, she gave him a small smile. “Mem, who the hell says we were ever going to need a prenup? If you want to divorce, die. I don’t believe in that crap when we can work it out.”

“Thank f**k for that,” he muttered.