The Reckoning

"Hello, Dad."

His club bar was eerily silent as the six foot five Aces and Eights president regarded his daughter; she was slimmer than he remembered, and despite Aimee's bravado, William could sense an air of fragility about her.

Someone had broken his baby's heart, but that wasn't his problem anymore.

Aimee had made her choice when she left with that conceited rich boy and William would be damned if he allowed her to come back into the club folds like nothing had happened, she was disloyal..and in his world, it didn't matter if she was blood, like everyone else, she would have to earn her way back in.

"You have some f*cken nerve girlie." He challenged, gnashing his teeth in anger.

"Must take after my Dad." Came Aimee's reply, and damned if Wild Bill didn't feel the stirrings of pride in his black heart.

She was his daughter alright.

Aimee refused to lower her gaze as the silence stretched out, no one moved, not even the rotters, although a subtle glance at the booths revealed bobbing heads in some patrons groins and glazed eyes on the men. Some things never changed.

It was a well-known fact that the rotters existed so the riders could f*ck them whenever, no money exchanged hands, and they performed their duties out in public at the bar, sometimes serving more than one rider at a time.

On rare occasions, they might be invited to a riders room upstairs, but that honor was usually reserved for the club queens.

Once a rider claimed his Queen, the rotters were off-limits.

Growing up in this bar Aimee had seen her fair share of vicious fights when a rotter overstepped their boundaries.

The riders old ladies in this club, were ruthless like their men, they had to be to survive in this world, but the loyalty they were shown by their men made a lot of modern marriages look like a joke; a Queen was her riders forever, still claimed even in death, they pledged to stay loyal for when they met again.

Loyalty was something Aimee had grown up valuing, it was ironic how things had played out in the end...

"Did you assault one of my prospects!?" William bellowed, snapping her out of her trip down memory lane.

Aimee felt her lip curling in disgust as she replied, "He needed to learn respect, if that weasel is the best you can recruit, this club is in real trouble."

It was like a red rag to a bull, and not for the first time Aimee found herself wishing she checked her opinions at the door before they vomited out of her mouth.

Duncan seemed to triple in size as he straightened to his full height, giant fists clenching and unclenching his whole body shaking with barely suppressed rage.

In one sentence Aimee had managed to insult his choices, disrespect his leadership, and cast doubt on the club's financial status and reputation.

"ENOUGH!" He roared, spit flying from his mouth, grizzled features stained deep red, and for a brief second Aimee wondered if her father was on the verge of a heart attack.

"Jesus Dad, calm down before you pop a vein or something...."

When one of William's eyes began twitching and a tic started on his left cheek Aimee realized she may have gone a little too far.

So much for appealing to his familial side.

In an instant Braxton appeared next to Wild Bill, speaking in a low voice he seemed to be suggesting something, and after a series of angry gestures and aggressive grunts, Duncan made a decision.

"You want your place back girl? Want to move into your room again? Yeah? EARN IT BACK, you know nothing's given freely in this club."

Aimee knew what he meant, and she also realized her dear old Dad expected her to refuse his ultimatum.

Slowly she uncurled herself from her perch; with slow deliberate moves Aimee took off her jacket, folding it and placing it on her seat, next she grabbed the hair tie on her wrist and deftly tied her hair up out of the way.

Turning her back, facing away from her father Aimee lifted her top over her head, exposing her sports bra, and the club tattoo on her back.

When she turned back around to face her father, she had removed all of her rings, her watch, necklace, and hidden weapons, placing them in plain sight on the bar top.

Aimee's look was determined as she took a deep breath,

"I'm ready, choose your two club reps Mr. President." She boldly challenged, casting her gaze around the room.

It was no surprise when the prospect stepped forward as the first opponent, she had clearly damaged his pride, but as the second man stepped forward, Aimee couldn't stop the nervous shiver that happened when she locked gazes with him.

The Henchman had come out to play.

"To the bullpen!" Wild Bill bellowed, effectively telling everyone in the club bar to move their arses out to the back.

The bullpen was a tradition amongst the Aces and Eights, as the name suggested it was a pen of sorts, encased in a black overhead cage, much the same as a UFC ring.

Once inside, there were only three ways out, the first was by forcing submission, the second by way of unanimous crowd decision, and the third was by stretcher.

Aimee knew William would face her off with the prospect first, no sense in using their sergeant at arms unless she managed to get past the first opponent.

Wild Bill had clearly forgotten how at home his eldest daughter was in the cage, truth be told she spent more of her childhood fighting in the cage than she did hanging out with friends.

Her father's approval had meant so much to Aimee as a child that she strived to be the best at anything William took an interest in, unfortunately where his daughters were concerned, nothing seemed to resonate with him, and he ignored them with alarming dedication.

Aimee briefly wondered why she hadn't seen Tatiana yet, but she brushed it off, no doubt they would have plenty of time to catch up later on.

Get your head in the game, Aimee ordered herself, as the older club members began to tie weapons in various places on the caged dome, taking quick stock she saw a couple of daggers, a metal bar, three large knives, a bag of sand and what looked like a few meters of thick rope, all tied strategically to the dome.

To reach them, and make use of their obvious advantages, Aimee would need to employ a combination of acrobatic moves and climbing skills, all while preventing the other two from accessing the same weapons. or coming up on her blind side as she reached for them.

Sometimes being height-challenged was a b*tch, she thought as she began to limber up her body, the familiar stretches coming naturally as she focused solely on the mission ahead.