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“That’s not the only reason I wanted to talk to you.” He glances over his shoulder.
“You worried someone’s gonna bust in or something?”
“No.” He squares his shoulders and faces me.
“I’ve shared a patch with these guys for a long time.”
Not liking the tone this conversation’s taken, I stand and place my hands on the desk. “Yeah?” I gesture for him to turn around. “Your top rocker say something different than mine?”
He shakes off my sarcasm and keeps his feet planted where they are. “I want you to understand, I’m not a snitch or a kiss-ass. I don’t give a fuck about getting on your good side. All I want is what’s best for this club. Always.”
“I’ve never doubted that, Rooster. You about to give me a reason I should?”
“No.” He glances at the door again. “Shadow’s been making noise about pushing into New Jersey territory.”
“What? Why?” The Vipers MC run most of New Jersey and, up until two years ago, ran a small portion of New York. Until my charter put them down and took over their territory. Vipers are all the bad stereotypes about MCs rolled into one club and I’m not eager to tangle with them again unless it’s absolutely necessary.
“He thinks we should dominate more territory. He’s been talking about going to DeLova to back us up.”
Jesus Christ, just what we need. Owing DeLova more favors. Sway’s an idiot sometimes, but I can’t believe he’d approve. “Where did Sway land on this issue?”
“He wanted no part of it. As long as Vipers stayed out of our territory, he wasn’t going to push into theirs.”
Well, thank fuck for that. “Good. So, what’s the problem?”
I already sense what’s coming.
“With Sway down, Shadow’s been starting this call to take over at least upper New Jersey.”
Funny how that happened. “That’s still an hour from here. We don’t have the numbers to hold that territory down.”
“Well, he’s been rumbling about it and I’m pretty sure he’s trying to pull support from some of the newer members who don’t know any better.”
Sure, newer members might not understand all the nuances or things involved with dominating a territory. Especially if they didn’t prospect long enough. Things like which politicians and law enforcement are receptive to bribes, what other crews might work in the area, and business potential. A whole host of things that don’t sound as fun as ‘kill rival bikers’ and ‘blow shit up’ to a newer member who doesn’t remember the days of serious anarchy, bloodshed, and chaos.
“Where’s Steer?”
“He’s a hard fuck no. Jigsaw, Hustle, Grip, Suds, they’re all full-stop against expansion.”
“All right. Good.” I give him a pointed look. “I assume you’re also a hard no?”
“Damn right. Using Sway’s shooting as a way to get around his orders ain’t right. Besides that, we don’t need the hassle. I know the shit you guys went through getting rid of the Vipers up in your area. No need to swat at that wasp’s nest unless it comes at us first.”
“Good. Who do I need to worry about?”
“Smoke. Old fuck misses the ‘glory days’ of being able to shoot people in broad daylight and plant car bombs.”
“He miss prison too?”
“Apparently.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sit and stare at the papers on the desk, not really seeing anything. “I’ll address it today.”
Rooster shifts and meets my eyes. “Cut him off at the knees before he gathers more support.”
That’s exactly what I plan to do.
Chapter Seven
Z
“Settle down.” I slam the gavel against the table and everyone shuts up. I’m guessing Sway bangs this thing a lot around here.
Not to be a dick, but Sway’s club is into a lot of things Rock, Wrath, and I decided our charter wouldn’t touch a long time ago. Petty bullshit that causes a lot of stress, risks arrest, and doesn’t bring in enough cash to be worth the trouble.
Sparky set Sway up with a small pot farm for personal use a while back. I haven’t floated the idea of expanding into a business yet for three reasons. One, I don’t want to introduce too much change into this club too soon. Two, I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to turn their club into a copycat of upstate. Three, while lucrative, growing marijuana for sale and profit isn’t easy. Sparky is a one-of-a-kind individual. I haven’t decided if anyone here is smart or dedicated enough to make it work.
So, for now, I listen to a report from Suds on the coin-operated laundry the club runs. It’s the perfect cash business to launder the money they make from running guns out to Stump’s club and beyond. Can’t say I’m thrilled to now be overseeing this since gun-running’s another thing my charter extracted itself from years ago. Call me a pussy, but doing hard time isn’t how this biker wants to spend his days.
Honestly, there are plenty of enterprises I’d rather not dirty my hands with. I enjoy my freedom way too much.
Next up, the pawn shop downtown. It’s really a front to move stolen goods. More petty bullshit and scrutiny from law enforcement. No wonder this charter has been struggling lately.
To say I’m unimpressed now that I’ve gotten a peek behind downstate’s curtain is an understatement. I’ve had my suspicions—we all have. But for the most part, each club is allowed to operate the way the members choose. As long as it doesn’t reflect badly on the whole organization. Human trafficking is the only way to earn that’s completely off the table for all charters. As it should be. Anyone earning that way deserves a bullet to the head.
Where Sway’s been hoping to turn a legitimate profit is his porn production company. My ex, Stella, is a big part of that plan, obviously. Turns out with Sway in the hospital, no one has a lot of information to share.
“He keeps details about her to himself,” Shadow explains with a dirty eyebrow wiggle.
Hustler raises his hand. “I have some monthly membership figures.”
Well, at least the treasurer has something useful.
“Good. What are we looking at?”
“Membership keeps growing every day. There was a slight increase in cancellations over the last two weeks, but I think that’s because no new content has been added.”
Fucking great. “What do we do about that?”
“That’s always been between Stella and Sway,” Steer explains. “We take our cut, but creative control is all hers. She reports to Sway and runs new ideas by him. No one else.”
Kill me now. The last damn thing I feel like doing is begging Stella for any updates on what sexual positions she’s filming herself in lately. Or worse, collaborating on projects.
Frustrated, I motion for Hustler to hand me the papers he’s holding. “I thought he was bankrolling some of her friends too. How are those doing?”
“We are. I got those reports too. None of them have the fan base she does, but they’re also on an upswing.”
“All right, well at least that’s good news.” I turn to Rooster. “Where we at with Sway’s shooting?”
“I’m at a dead end.” He scratches his hand over his beard and flicks his gaze down the table, but no one speaks up. “I’ve combed through every piece of video footage and got nothing.”
Shadow stands without being recognized, something I don’t care for. I won’t make an issue out of it now, but it’ll definitely be addressed at some point. Bikers or not, we have a certain protocol at meetings that will be followed.
“We all know Vipers were probably behind this attack.” He turns and points down the table. “How many times they come after your club? Almost fucking killed you, right brother?”
Teller sits up, surprised, I think, to be brought into the conversation. “Yeah, but the ones who ran me off the road are,” he cough-smirks, “long gone.”
“Z knows more about this than I do,” Murphy says. “But we never had any indication that the Jersey charter condoned what New York was doing. So why they’d start fucking with us now makes no sense.”
“Bullshit.” Smoke jumps out of his chair. “We know one club doesn’t make a move without the rest of ‘em knowing about it. They came after our prez and we ne
ed to retaliate before they think we’re a bunch of pussies who can’t handle our biz.”
Christ, that escalated quickly.
“Whoa.” I hold my hands up in the air but otherwise remain calm, like none of this ruffles me even though I’m dying to plant my fist in Shadow’s face for sharing this conspiracy theory without discussing it with me first. “What are you basing that opinion on?”
“Thirty-five years of gut instinct,” Smoke shoots back, slapping his meaty paw over his protruding gut. “I been in the game since you were in diapers, Z.”
Rooster sighs and rolls his eyes my way. Further down the table, Jigsaw snorts and shakes his head.
“Rooster knows explosives.” Smoke jabs his finger in Rooster’s direction. “We should have him wire up their vehicles and hit them at their clubhouse, hard and fast. See how they like it.”
Hustler stands and leans over the table, catching Smoke’s eye. “This ain’t your golden oldie days, brother. Thinking before acting will save us all a lot of grief.”
“I’m thinking the Vipers tried to off our prez and we need to act in a way that shows them we won’t tolerate it and end it for good,” Smoke fires back.
“Bro, cool it.” I motion for everyone to take their seats again. “What interaction have you guys had with the Vipers to think they’re behind this? Sway’s never mentioned an issue.”
“I have good intel they’ve been moving into the south of our territory,” Smoke says too quickly to sound believable.
“Z,” Teller calls. “Uh, Prez. If you remember, that’s how they started with us.”
I turn my don’t encourage this stare his way and he gives me a half-smirk in return.
“See?” Shadow points at Teller. “T knows what’s up.”
While his brain-to-mouth function leaves a lot to be desired sometimes, Teller’s smarter than Shadow, Smoke, and half this club combined. He wouldn’t have opened his mouth without a good reason. Even so, I ignore him for now.
“They did shoot at me and Heidi,” Murphy reminds us. “Fucking sniper shot from a distance.”
