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I have a sense of purpose now and a club to call my own.
I lean against the bar, continuing to sip on my whiskey.
Killer comes up beside me, leaning against the bar.
Fury’s wiping the bar down, probably disinfecting it or something. “Want a drink?”
Killer nods. “Whiskey would be good.”
Fury grabs a glass. “Got it.”
While Fury makes Killer’s drink, Killer looks over at me. “You hear about what happened last night?”
I shake my head. “No, I haven’t. Do somethin’ crazy?”
Killer smirks mischievously, “You could say that. We finally made a move against the 17.”
I heard the name brought up once or twice by Zane and Amara. The two of them were on a call with Damon, discussing whether we were going to send people to LA to assist them.
The Raiders didn’t ask for our help at that point in time, so we didn’t send anyone.
I arch my brows. “Good. How’d it go?”
Killer proceeds to tell me, “It went good. We hit one of their parties last night and shot the place up. Their leader, Carlos, was killed in the attack, so we damn well sent a message.”
The 17 have been causing problems for their club for a bit now.
“Good. The last thing you need is for an enemy to not take you seriously.”
It’s good for them to pluck the thorn out of their side. Hopefully, with Carlos gone, it will mean the 17 pull back completely.
But, for as long as I’ve been around, I know better. Someone will likely rise up within the ranks and cause more chaos in no time.
In a way, it makes me thankful because we don’t have too many issues at our charter.
I know in time, we’ll begin to have more problems arise, especially as we make ourselves prevalent.
There aren’t any clubs close to us, but there are smaller gangs who constantly want to piss on our territory, marking it as theirs.
My phone begins vibrating, and I glance down and see Amara’s calling me.
I pick it up, accept the call, and bring it to my ear. “Hey.”
The second she speaks, I can tell she’s stressed. “Hey, you have a few minutes?”
Like I have the option to say no. “Of course. What’s goin’ on?”
Amara hesitates for a moment before answering. “We had a bit of a situation earlier today. Caught a teenager selling drugs near the club.”
I furrow my brows, trying to figure out who in their right mind would be on our turf. “It’s not the Ramirezes or the Lopezes, right?”
Immediately, Amara confirms, “No, Dante doesn’t have a clue about it, and the Ramirezes try to funnel the drugs to America. They don’t want to taint Mexico with drugs.”
I laugh. “Yeah, but others will if they don’t. They should have control over the situation.”
Amara agrees, “I know, but don’t shoot the messenger. I know those two families aren’t behind it, which means someone’s testing the waters, seeing what they can get away with in our territory.”
I sigh heavily, knowing all too well this was going to happen at some point. “We better figure out who’s behind it before we have a bigger issue on our hands.”
