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“I thought Sesame Street woke you?”
Rock side-eyes me.
“That was after the phone call,” Z says.
“So, what? You decided to spread the cheer?” I ask.
Rock pads into the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee. “Do I even want to know?” he asks over his shoulder.
“Priest.” Z glances between us.
“Fuck. What now?” Rock grumbles. “And thank fuck he’s calling you instead of me.”
“Yeah, it was a real thrill for me too.” Z rolls his eyes.
“What’s he want now?” Rock asks.
Z pulls out one of the dining table chairs, sits, and leans back. Stretching out his big body, he tips the chair onto its back legs and tucks his hands behind his head. “Washington’s still a clusterfuck.”
“And that’s your problem, why?” Rock asks.
“Well, it turns out, since I’m so amazing—”
“For fuck’s sake,” Rock mutters.
“For the way I turned downstate around…” Z lifts his chin at me. “No offense.”
I’ll always give credit where it’s due, and Z’s accomplished a lot since he took over. He shook all of us out of our complacency. Weeded out the bad apples in our charter. Brought everyone closer together. As much as I love to fuck around and give him shit, he will always have my loyalty, respect, and full support. “None taken.”
He holds one finger up. “Hold that thought.”
“I’m listening.”
“He wants someone more responsible to check up on Washington and a few other charters.”
Rock turns to face Z, leaning back against the counter. “Let me guess. He wants that someone to be you?”
“Correct.” Z focuses on me. “I was, of course, obligated to explain that change did not come to downstate without the help of my loyal brothers, especially my VP.” His serious expression doesn’t change.
“Appreciate that.” I grunt.
“I didn’t say it to get out of a road trip, brother.”
“What then?” I work to keep my voice on the respectful side and dial back the suspicious tone.
He glances at Rock. “We need to put together a small, casual team of brothers we trust to visit Priest’s ‘problem children’ over the next couple months. It’s the only way to get Priest off our backs.”
Rock stares at the ceiling for a few seconds before speaking. “Fuck. We’re short-handed enough.”
“I thought you wanted me helping Murphy with the support club, Prez?” Expanding and securing our existing territory was also high on Priest’s list last time I checked.
“I do. I also want to avoid more six a.m. phone calls from Priest.” His mouth twists into an annoyed smirk. “He lovingly reminded me he’d like to see our charter kicking up more money.”
“Fuck me.” I run my hands through my hair.
“Washington’s bleeding the coffers dry with their never-ending legal fees and fines,” Rock says, staring into his coffee.
“They gotta get out of guns for good this time. Not the half-assed shit Pony’s been doing since he took over. It’s gonna end up bringing the entire organization down.” Z points at me and then taps his own cut. “We all wear the same patch. Feds could decide every charter deserves a one-way ticket to the Graybar Hotel.”
“How exactly do you expect to convince them of a career switch this late in the game?” I ask.
“I don’t.”
“We should go in low-key and see who’s receptive to a change,” Rock says. “Build on those relationships. Push out the die-hards.”
“That was my thought,” Z agrees. “I impressed upon Priest that it can’t be you or me.”
Rock raises an eyebrow.
“You’re welcome.” Z smirks.
Rock grunts at him.
Z shrugs. “You’re seen as Priest’s golden boy.”
“Thanks,” Rock says slowly, not sounding at all thankful.
“I’m just saying. If Rochlan North comes riding in, brothers are gonna piss themselves.” He touches his chest. “I can’t go, either. Another charter sees me coming, they’ll assume I’m there to clean house.”
“That leaves my favorite motherclucker.” Z settles his gaze on me. “Rooster. You’re in a position to commiserate with them on how mean ol’ Z came in and stole your charter—”
“Except you made me your VP, so they ain’t gonna trust me either,” I point out.
“Flip their worldview, brother. Show them how much more money they could be making with porn instead of guns. Pony will be receptive to change, but he needs some hand-holding.”
“Great choice for a president.” Rock lifts his gaze to the ceiling.
I chuckle at Rock’s observation before commenting on Z’s suggestion. “Setting them up could take forever. And Stella won’t take a trip out there to help me recruit.”
“You don’t need her.” He waves off the mention of his ex. “I know a girl out there.”
“Of course, you do,” I mutter.
Rock stops pouring coffee and turns a slow glare Z’s way.
Z holds up his hands. “Not who you’re thinking. Ease up, Rock.”
“So, what do you want, Z? Want me to go out there and see if the brothers are eager to be porn kings?” I ask. “I don’t anticipate any of them saying no.”
