She takes the cue. No use in wasting her time on an old man like me when there are plenty of young bucks in here looking to get their stick wet from anything willing.
“You were saying?”
“Things back home are getting tight. We’re under watch from the town’s newest elected official.” I all but sneer, annoyed with the man’s existence. “He’s looking to crack down on the so-called crime we’ve got, and that looks likeharassing my guys and setting up shop a little too close to home.”
“You’re still keeping merch off-site, yeah?”
“Always, but if we’re not careful, there won’t be anyone to manage it out there anyway. That’s why…” I draw in a deep breath, expecting the same damn response as my own club gave me. “I want to take the East Texas chapter legit.”
He doesn’t react, scanning us across the table, before his head starts to shake.
“Fuck, man. You’re serious? What do you think about this?” His question’s thrown to Si, who looks to me for the approval he needs to speak freely.
I nod because hiding it isn’t going to help the situation, especially if I’m looking for Patch’s backup on the matter.
“He’s not wrong. This mayor is already a pain in our ass, and it hasn’t been that long since he was elected. The city’s crawling with more cops than we’ve ever had. Where that money’s coming from, who the fuck knows. We could dig into him and see if it’s something shady, but the way he’s making moves, I doubt it. My guess is he’s gunning for a life in politics, and this is his big start.”
“And that’s got you worried enough to want to throw in the towel?” Patch asks with enough disgust in his tone that I know where he’s about to take this.
“I’m not looking to say goodbye to the life. Just go clean for a while. Move our merch to you, or hell, one of the chapters in Georgia. We’ve got enough legit business to get us going, and we’ll just expand into some other stuff. I can’t do another stint, man, not now with Josie and Haley in the picture.”
“Step down,” Patch deadpans. “Your old lady’s cunt must be the tightest wet hole if you’re willing to throw in the towel after all these years.”
I’m up out of my seat in a flash. My hand twists tight in his shirt as I rip him up to his feet. A couple of his guys who haven’t wandered off, tense around us, but they know better than to intervene.
I’ve got a few inches on the guy, but he’s a mean motherfucker that wouldn’t blink with a cocked gun to his forehead, let alone a desperate man trying to do the right thing.
My blood boils, simmering through my veins, at the mention of Josie. It’s club etiquette to keep an old lady’s name out of your mouth, especially a respected one like her, but Patch isn’t the type to get attached. He’ll never understand the primal need to put your woman and offspring first, even when your brothers are family.
“If you ever say another thing about her, I’ll knock that fucking smirk off your lips, and you’ll be shittin’ those pearly whites.”
His smirk deepens. I’m sure he’s eating up the fact that he got under my skin, but I’ve been tense since the moment my tires left the compound’s gates.
His fingers pluck my fist from his shirt, straightening the fabric when I eventually let go. I don’t back up, towering over him, until he throws up his hands in mock defeat. He’s not backing down, but we both know if a fist flies in here, neither of us is getting out of it unscathed, and my temper is running too hot to see reason.
He shifts away, finally sliding back into his chair, and I let my body relax. This is worse than bringing the change up to the guys. They were pissed, rightfully so. Going straight changes everything, and a lot of them rely on our runs to survive. But none of them questioned my loyalty to the Vipers.
“Let this one take over if you’re too much of a fucking bitch to lead your club anymore.”
Just as my anger begins to cool, he turns it right back up. He’s worn that President patch a lot longer than I have, but it doesn’t mean I’m any less invested.
“I’m not interested in heading up the club. I like my piece of the pie, no need to change it up,” Si answers. He taps Harlow’s thigh, and she stands, distracting Patch from the conversation.
He’s as ready to get out of here as I am. There’s no help to be offered, no answers to the question I was determined to figure out on this trip. Going straight is starting to look more and more like a pipe dream than a reality.
“Like what you see?” Harlow asks in a disinterested tone, her nail scraping across the table.
I shake my head, knowing damn well she’s baiting him and shifting the focus of the conversation. Shit’s about to go sideways if we don’t get out of here.
“Wildcat,” I hear the low growl beneath the steady thump of the music’s bass.
“Honey, if your man’s up for sharing, we can head back to my place right now and start the party.”
Bait taken.
Harlow’s wild laughter melds with the crash of our table being flipped and the scattering of glass across the hard floor from our beer bottles. The entire bar stills to look our way, but Silas is already on the move, closing the two feet it takes him to kick over Patch’s chair.
Harlow stands at my side, a terrifying smile of satisfaction across her face as she watches her husband create a problem for the club we didn’t have before walking in here.
