20
Soul
The auto body shopis buzzing when I peel off my helmet. The familiar scent of motor oil floods my nose, and I hate that after all these years, my insides still recoil at that scent.
Dad came home reeking of it most days. The only thing he liked more than drinking and fucking patch bunnies was fixing up cars. That’s probably why I never got into it.
Havoc lifts his head out of an engine and grins when he spots me. “Look who’s pretending he’s actually going to get his hands dirty.”
I flip him off, and he chuckles. “You wish I was here to help your lazy ass. I’m here for Steel.”
“Office.” He tips his chin at the door in the back of the shop, chuckling at my joke when he knows I avoid the shop as much as possible.
Unlike him.
Kings Auto is one of our oldest legit businesses, and even when we were kids, Havoc was always hanging around the bays, itching to get his hands on something that needed rebuilding. Now, he spends more time here than at the clubhouse.
It’s fine by me so long as Steel doesn’t need me to do it.
We all have our roles within the club, but most members, ranked or not, hold other jobs for the club to keep everything running. Havoc handles Kings Auto, while Chaos handles our strip club, Sapphire Rise. Legacy does our books, and Ghost deals with security and surveillance.
As the vice president, I don’t handle any one thing. Mostly, I just take care of the shit Steel doesn’t want to do—like this morning when we needed one of our recent shipments moved to a different location because the cops have been sniffing around that particular warehouse district.
It’s only early afternoon, and I’m already tired and annoyed.
I walk through the shop, earning a nod from a few of the guys as I pass. Aimee is seated on a workbench, legs dangling directly in Havoc’s line of sight.
“Hey, Soul.” She smiles. “What are you doing here?”
“Being distracting,” Havoc answers for me.
“Seems like that’s her job.” I jut a thumb at Aimee, grinning.
Havoc stands tall, bracing his hands on the car. “If so, she’s doing a damn good job.”
Aimee smiles widely, not the least bit guilty that it takes Havoc twice as long to work on anything so long as she’s at the shop with him. At least if she’s here, he’s happy. And when he’s happy, shit gets done, and I’m not needed.
“Stop flirting and get back to work.” I slap Havoc on the shoulder as I walk past.
“At least I’m working,” he yells after me, and a few of the guys chuckle.
As promised, Steel is in the office, staring at a stack of papers like he’s on the brink of losing his mind. There’s nothing he hates more than dealing with the business aspects of running the club, even if he’s damn good at it.
“You look like hell.” I drop into the chair at the other side of the desk.
Steel leans back, rubbing his hand down his face. “The city is citing us for an environmental violation over how we’re storing antifreeze. It’s bullshit, of course.”
“Zane?” I guess.
He has the city council in his back pocket.
And the cops.
And just about everyone who has the power to fuck with us in Vegas.
Steel nods.
“Legacy said he’s getting somewhere with the bank accounts. He and Ghost found something new apparently. Another shell corporation or offshore account, or something. You’ll have to ask them to explain that shit.”
