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This was the club’s future.
We’d spent years running drugs, guns, and other bullshit that had found more than a handful of my brothers doing time. At the time, it was what we had to do to support our families and brotherhood.
The underground plans with Brawlers weren’t completely above board, but the risk was much lower, meaning my men got to stay out of lockup and keep providing for their families.
This was the future of the club.
And I was proud of the direction we were headed.
“Hey, Prez!” Blue crossed the gym, dodging a couple of stray punches that were meant for bags. He waved a yellow post-it note between his fingertips, holding it out for me. “Match sent me that address you wanted from Shay’s tracking.”
I plucked it from his hand, narrowing my eyes as I fought to make out Blue’s horrid handwriting. “This is only like twenty minutes from here.”
“Fancy part of town, too,” Callan agreed as he leaned in and took a peek. “Right on the river.”
That alone made me even more furious.
The club had rules about drugs.
My boys smoked their weed and drank like fish, but we drew the line at anything harder than that. Hard drugs caused problems. They stopped people from thinking logically. They made people willing to do things they wouldn’t usually do, just to get a fix. I didn’t trust a man to have my back if I couldn’t even trust him to hold my wallet.
That didn’t mean I policed the streets of Detroit to keep the drugs away.
No. That wasn’t my fucking job. I policed my club.
I made sure my men had self-control and their heads on straight, and they made the right choices despite being surrounded by temptations.
That being said, there were always exceptions to the rules. And I was about to make one.
“Grab Rafe and Cain, and meet me at my place,” I told Blue, flicking at the paper in my hands. “We’re gonna take my truck.”
“The kid’s ride still needs a little work to fix it up—”
“I don’t wanna ride. If we’re gonna pay this asshole a visit, I don’t want to alert him to our presence when we arrive.”
Blue’s grin grew wide, and Callan let out a booming laugh. “Man, I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.” He took a couple of steps back and headed toward the basement stairs. “Update me later, though. Yeah?”
I scoffed, sending him a sharp salute as Blue and I fell in step, heading for the front door. “I wonder why Callan never joined the club,” Blue mused. “Cain said he tried to talk him into it a few times.”
We stepped out onto the street, and I paused beside my Harley, picking up my helmet. “I think his hands were full trying to wrangle the four brothers he already has. Adding a few more probably didn’t sound all that appealing.”
Blue’s head bobbed. “Yeah. You’re probably right. Those Scott brothers do have a reputation for chaos.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Unlike us, right?”
Blue smirked as he headed back inside to find Rafe and Cain for our field trip, calling back over his shoulder, “Yeah, unlike us!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
SHAY
“You need me to come in?” Boon asked, pulling a shopping cart from the line and holding it out for me.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I told him, taking the cart from his hands and pulling it toward me. “I only need a few things for lunch tomorrow, so I shouldn’t be more than ten minutes or so.”
Boon shrugged and stepped back. “All good. I’ll just hang out here. Scream if you need me,” he joked, though it wasn’t very good.
Bishop was adamant that I had a club member or a prospect with me whenever possible since we both knew I’d pushed Vince pretty close to the edge at Frank’s party last weekend.
