He was vague, but we all understood. In addition to Mav’s backdoor weapons sales, our MC provided shipment protection to a few organizations. We stood as a neutral party during transport and delivery. The money was easy, especially with Tracker’s ability to find the quickest and safest routes. Occasionally there were issues, but we’d earned a reputation for being able to handleissues.
Mav turned to me. “Bear, what news do you have?”
I cleared my throat. “As you know, there’s been an increase in overdoses in Atlantic Shores. Word from my informant in the police department said there’s a new dealer in town with dirty product. Considering this is Exiled Reaper territory and no one has come to us for permission to deal, I’ve been looking into it. Baller and I visited a few clubs, and he was able to get something off one of the waitresses.”
“Hold on,” Mav interrupted with a grin. “Did you say he was able to get off one of the waitresses?”
I rolled my eyes. Honestly, the guy’s road name should’ve been Playboy, not Baller, but he was the best guy for the particular mission I’d been on. He’d been homecoming king and quarterback of the local high school football team before he blew his knee out in the state championship.
I pulled out the baggie with the pill inside and slid it to Maverick. “This is the ecstasy he got from the waitress.”
He grabbed the bag and his eyes furrowed.
“What the hell? That’s the Diablos MC logo.” He passed the bag to Tracker, and it went around the room, each man cursing before passing it to the next.
I nodded. “Exactly. It’s bad enough someone would come into our territory and start selling drugs. But another MC? They know better. Stamping it with their logo is a bold move. Makes me think this is about more than dealing.”
Mav closed his eyes and nodded. “Like they want to taunt us? Want to tell us they aren’t afraid?”
I rolled my neck, hearing a pop as the tension eased. “Something like that. The Diablos’ national chapter is out of Kentucky. They haven’t responded to calls, so we may need to take a road trip to get answers. I haven’t seen any of their guys in town. If they’re here, there’s no sign of a clubhouse. But they’ve got to come out sometime to deal. I’ve put some brothers on rotation at the clubs and on the streets. If we can catch one of their crew dealing, we’ll bring him back here for a conversation.”
“Nice.” Mav smiled. “It’s been a while since I had a goodconversation.” He drummed his fingers on the table and looked at the paper in front of him. “The last item on our agenda is this weekend’s cookout. This one is open, so invite your potential recruits. Our two prospects are almost at the end of their probation year, so we need to get a few more in the pipeline. We’ll keep things family friendly until the sun goes down, but at that point you’ll want to make sure any innocent eyes are on their way—”
He was interrupted by the ring of a cell phone. I closed my eyes and lowered my head. I recognized that chime. It was mine. From the cell phone currently sitting in the back pocket of my jeans. Which was supposed to be in the bowl outside the doors of church. We had a strict no cell phone policy. As enforcer, I knew better. And I was going to have to accept my punishment for breaking the rule.
A maniacal grin spread across Mav’s face. “Oh, was that you, Bear? Did our head enforcer break one of the cardinal rules of church?” He rubbed his hands together. “Whatever shall we doto punish you? A good old-fashioned beat down?” He glanced fondly at the bat that hung over the doorway. “Or maybe something more punitive, like cleaning the toilets for the next month.”
I groaned, unable to say anything in my defense. He was right. I’d fucked up.
“Oh, I know.” He clapped his hands together in mock surprise, as if he hadn’t had this planned all along. “You’re in charge of this weekend’s cookout.”
“I’m… what?” I shook my head. He couldn’t be serious. The club bunnies handled that shit. That’s what they were here for. Besides fucking the brothers, of course.
“Yes, this is perfect.” Mav’s grin grew. “As Blade said, the bunnies have been doing a shit job running the bar. And you remember the last cookout. All we had were burgers, dogs, and buns. They forgot the sides. The condiments. Even the damn plates.” He shook his head. “With you in charge, I’m sure we’ll have everything we need, right?” His smile disappeared and he pierced me with a glare so menacing I’d promise to bake a beef wellington if he wanted.
“Right.” I nodded, sufficiently chastised.
“And don’t forget,” he added, his playful grin back, “Stitch’s old lady is vegetarian, so you’ll need to include veggie burgers and tofu pups.”
I slapped my hand across my forehead.Fuck my life.
2
LEXIE
“Chef Lexie, the mashed potatoes were fantastic today!”
I smiled at Ms. Jenkins, the former mayor of Atlantic Shores and overall boss of residents at the senior living home. “Don’t tell Doug, but I used real butter and actual garlic.”
Ms. Jenkins huffed. “That hack wouldn’t know good food if it leaped up and bit him in the rear. You keep doing what you’re doing, and maybe some of these residents will finally gain weight. Am I right, ladies?” She glanced around at the women at her table.
“What she said.” Ms. Dottie nodded as she slurped on a vitamin-packed smoothie.
“Ms. Sandy, what did you think about the chicken alfredo?” I asked. “I added nutmeg this time.”
“Oh, is that what that was? I knew something was different, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. That was the best alfredo I’ve ever had here, so I’d say keep it!”
“Lexie! Stop talking and get back in here!” Doug’s loud voice echoed from the kitchen.
