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He cocks his head and stares, waiting for more information.
“Shelby hung out with her a little bit.”
“Really?” I get his disbelief. Old ladies aren’t usually fond of spending time with unattached women associated with the club.
“Yeah, they got along well. From everything I saw, she’s respectful to the old ladies. Doesn’t start drama.” Priest seems to want some sort of reassurance. “I don’t exactly know what their personal relationship is, but I got the impression they have history. Shelby kinda confirmed that. Ice was friends with her dad or something.”
A flash of recognition seems to cross his face. He nods slowly. “I think I know who you’re talking about now.”
Great, because I’d really love to stop squealing on my brothers now.
“Every club’s certainly free to earn how they want as long as it’s not bringing us all down. Like you said, it’s legal.” He shrugs. “Your operation in New York is still profitable as well, right?”
“It’s not my operation, Priest. But yes. Things are running smoothly and as expected.”
“And you trust this gal?”
“I don’t trust anyone but from what I saw, she’s extremely loyal to Ice and the club.” That’s the last thing I want to say about Ice and his personal life.
“Think you’ll have a night to spare to visit your brothers in Tennessee?”
Ah, there it is.
The quick switch in conversation doesn’t throw me as much as Priest probably wanted it to. He’s praised me, reminded me of my obligations to the club, pumped me for information—now here comes the real point of this conversation.
“Sure. Any reason in particular?”
“Our situation there is a bit rocky. The relationship with Black Venom MC has deteriorated a lot over the last couple of months.”
I wrack my brain trying to remember any details about the smaller southern MC. “We’ve run into them at events in Florida and never had any issues.”
“Yeah, well, the Bunnville president’s trying to make a name for himself. Stirring up trouble where there doesn’t need to be any.”
I’ve been in the northeast for so long, it takes me a second to picture the territory outlines. “They’re located near the Georgia border. Why are they even near Deadbranch?”
The corners of his mouth curl up, as if he’s pleased with my ability to grasp geography on the fly. “Expansion? Seeing how much they can get away with? Why does any MC encroach?”
“That’s suicide when our mother charter’s a five-hour ride away.” I stop for a beat. “Unless they think they have the backing of another club.”
“That’s my concern.”
“So, what’s Digger doing about it?” As small as our upstate NY charter is, the second Rock has a whiff of another MC sniffing around their territory, he puts an end to it. Even Sway, for all his—many—faults was always aware of who was trying to invade our territory when he was president. Still, having Z in charge is far better.
“Nothing,” Priest spits. “Claims he’s keeping tabs on the situation. But he’s too busy running their whorehouse-saloon to instill much confidence.”
It’s not really a secret that Priest isn’t fond of all the wink-of-the-pink businesses our clubs run. What exactly he expects a bunch of bikers to dabble in, and still stay semi-legal, I have no idea. Lost Kings have never touched human trafficking and never will. Priest frowns on trafficking heavy narcotics, and weapons. The few charters that defy him on the drugs and guns better make serious bank and stay out of trouble, otherwise, they land on his shit-list fast. After those big three, there aren’t a whole lot of profitable areas for outlaws to earn big.
“I’ll be near Nashville after the tour. Shelby’s recording her album there. But we have the next few days off. I can take a detour if you feel the situation is more urgent.”
“I knew I could count on you.” he says with a sly eyebrow raise.
Spying on another charter for Priest is a good way to get a reputation as National’s bitch. Not a title I’ve ever aspired to own.
But it’s not like saying no to Priest is an option either.
“I’m always happy to stop in and say hello.” I consider who I’m traveling with. Dawson and his crew would provide excellent coverage for a spy mission. We left them at Dawson’s friend’s ranch but some of the roadies weren’t thrilled about staying put for the next couple days. They’ve been itching to have “fun.” A field trip to the Royal Dolls Gentlemen’s Club could be a nice bonding activity for everyone. “I’ll see if we can get some of the guys from the tour to go with us. Make it seem like a casual visit.”
His eyes gleam with approval. “Your woman going to be okay with you visiting there?”
Jesus, yeah, that’s all I need to tell Priest. My girlfriend won’t let me go to a strip club. “She’ll be fine.”
