Chapter 171: Hot Spot

Now that the kitchen is cleaned, we’re going to freshen up a few other places too. The chapel is getting new flooring and paint. Sticks, I want some new furniture for the front rooms. Cookie, I want to redo our rooms. – Siobhan

Molly stepped into the chapel and looked at the tiny pink cut that had hung there since they lost Angel. It stood out among the larger black cuts that surrounded it. There were also nearly two dozen white cuts to indicate the innocents that were lost during the war that was waged by the Brotherhood.

No matter what anyone else said, it could have been a lot worse. The Brotherhood had made it clear back then that even innocents were fair game. The Saints respected the unwritten law of the innocents and would continue to do so.

Even though that decision had bitten them in the ass twice now. The first time when Stinger raped Taz. He was beaten to death in the mother house by her cousin, Knuckles.

The second time was when they recruited Leo to help with their trafficking scheme. He was now dead. Fed to the pigs the night before last. Pigs that had been branded for special processing in mid-October.

Nessie had come back into the Shack, cleansed the chapel with her witchy magic, and warned Leo’s ghost that if he misbehaved, she would have him cast into the darkness. No one questioned her actions.

Just like no one questioned Dom when she ordered the prospects to scrape up the linoleum floor in the chapel. The cuts were all carefully taken down and cleaned. Leather soap and conditioner were applied to the cuts that were no longer worn. However, they were still revered.

The room still smelled of fresh paint and linoleum glue. Spider walked in shaking a can of spray paint. Walking over with the red paint he put a new X for the hot spot.

“You ready to have three son-in-laws?”

Molly smirked, “I think it’s sons that plural. No laws involved with relationships like ours.”

Spider laughed, “Alright, you got me there. So, are you ready to have three outlaw sons?”

“Hell, yeah,” Molly grinned. “They took care of my baby.”

“That they sure as hell did.” He bent down and placed another coat of paint on the new X. “Which one is she going to marry?”

Chuckling, Molly shook his head, “They haven’t said yet. Even if they had, it’s not my place to be telling their business.”

“All four of them being called to the hot spot tonight?”

“You would know that better than I would,” Molly looked at him. “You’re the enforcer. I’m just a farmer.”

“You?” Spider laughed. “Just a farmer? You, my boy, are the keeper of the pigs. You take care of any issue that we officers cannot.”

Grinning at the other man, Molly pointed out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have any pigs on my farm. I got some goats that belong to the flowers. Cattle, even some sheep. But no pigs.”

He sprayed the last coat on the X before he straightened and looked at his lifelong friend, “But I bet you know where to get some pigs.”

Nodding, Molly crossed his arms, “I do. Went out and picked out a pen of pigs to have them processed in time for the holidays.”

Walking over, Spider gripped Molly’s beefy upper arm. “You’re a good man, Molly. And a great dad. God bless those three if they ever piss you off.”

Molly arched a dark eyebrow at him, “Have you not met my daughters?”

“I think Leo wished that he had never met your daughters.” He started walking towards the door, “But yes, I’ve met your daughters. They fucking terrify me!”

Spider’s voice faded as he went down the hallway. Molly went to the corner where he and the other men in his family always sat. He sat down in his regular chair as the other club brothers started making their way in. The other Lowery men joined him, and they quickly filled the corner.

Athos and Aramis sat on the outskirts of the group. The third chair that they always kept for Porthos was empty. Just as the one that Chance held for his wife’s cousin. The chair next to Molly, where his oldest daughter sat between him and the musketeers, was also kept open. Patch grabbed an extra chair, and everyone understood who this fourth chair was for.

With all three clubs being in attendance again, seating would be at a premium. Molly was talking quietly with Cowboy about the upcoming harvest, after all, he was just a farmer, when Werewolf nudged him. Looking at the door, he saw his daughter walk in, followed by her three men.

Smiling at her dad, Priscilla made her way over to her regular chair. Just before they reached the group, Molly moved the chair and loudly placed his booted feet in the seat. Porthos’ chair was moved and both Athos and Aramis placed their feet in it.

Chance did the same to the chair that he saved for Geo. Patch cleared his throat and they all looked at the empty chair in front of him. Looking at each of them in the eye, he slowly placed his feet in the chair.

The message was clear. None of them were happy with the four patched members. Priscilla was the one that had been around the club the longest. All the years that they had discussed protocol in front of the little girl, the nights that she had hidden in the bar, the months that she had prospected, all that knowledge told her one thing.

She nodded at the group and turned to push her way through the growing crowd. Molly smirked at the three confused men and was not surprised when they all turned and followed their woman. He was certain that she knew that they would follow her. Much like she knew that he would follow any of his pretties. All the way to hell if they asked.

Looking at his daughter and then at the hook on the ceiling above her, he knew that she was standing over the hot spot. The men stood behind her, forming a wall, not defending or protecting, but supporting. He smiled at that small act.

“They’re going to make it,” Patch grinned.

“Yeah,” Molly agreed, “they will.”

The officers of the three clubs moved in and took their seats. Spider grinned at Molly before he settled into his role of enforcer and scowled at the four patches standing on the hot spot. The other officers also glared at them. Trigg, the oldest of the three presidents, and the longest serving, was given the right to start the interrogation.

“I’m sure that the four of you have reasons-.”

“They do,” Dom said from the stool that she kept in the corner behind the officers.

“Care to elaborate?” Trigg asked without looking at her.

She had been looking at her nails and pulled her oversized Bowie knife out of the sheath to clean her nails. “Not really. But the Brotherhood's in the skin trade.”