Page 79 of Riding Bare

“So what the fuck do the Russians want from us to be square?” Cake asks.

“The reason I’m here,” I say. “They want a partnership,” I state. “A merger of sorts.”

Cake doesn’t say anything immediately. He presses his lips together and narrows his eyes on me. I know he wants to tell me to fuck all the way off, but I’m not going to do that. This was inevitable. The Russians were looking for just this moment to seize what they wanted.

“I don’t want to be part of them,” Cake mutters. Piston and Clutch snort, no doubt feeling the same way. “I also don’t want them to come up with new ways to weasel their way in with us, but it seems like we’re at an impasse.”

“You got a plan, then? Because I’m already in with them.”

“My plan at this moment is to hear the Russian out,” Piston growls. At the same time, Clutch snorts.

Cake lifts his hand, waves it around a few times to shut his sons up. Everyone is silent for a moment, then he leans over slightly, placing his palms flat on the desk as he looks directly into my eyes.

“I don’t even blame you for this. It’s my fault. I should have ended that slimy motherfucker before I even asked for your help. I tried to pussyfoot around this, and there is no pussyfooting.”

I want to ask him what the fuck he’s going to do, but I don’t get the chance. He slams his palms down, then straightens his back. “Pussyfooting is over,” he states, repeating his words.

“It’s time for war.”

It’s at this moment that I realize I might have to go against my original chapter. I hope I don’t. I hope that Cake can see reason, but I’m in some serious fucking doubt right now. I press my lips together. The last thing I want is war, even though that’s what I’ve been planning. I see it as a last resort.

“Shouldn’t we try to reason with them? Maybe they don’t want anything too invasive.”

“You sound like a pussy,” Piston grunts.

Clutch laughs, but I shake my head once. “I’m sure I do. But just know I’ve been preparing for war even though I don’t want it. I have a wife and a child on the way. War isn’t something to enter lightly.”

“Nothing about the goddamn Russians is light,” Piston quips.

He’s not wrong.

CHAPTER

SIXTY-ONE

DARE

Cake sends his sons out of the room, and I have to wonder what the fuck is coming next. If we go to blows, I can’t even begin to guess who would win.

“Sit,” he barks.

I don’t do a fucking thing. I stand where I am, ready to do what needs to be done, though I honestly can’t imagine two presidents going at it. I’ve known him for decades and respected him just as many years.

“Just sit, Amos.”

“My real name? Must be serious,” I murmur as I walk over to the chair that’s across from him.

Sinking down, I cross one ankle over my knee and lean back slightly. We stare at one another for a moment, unmoving, unwavering, as I wait for him to continue. He leans back in his own chair, his gaze focusing on mine.

“What are their terms?” he asks.

“Terms?”

He hums. “I might want to fly off the handle, but I don’t think that’s the wisest decision. We’ve all been giving this a lot more headspace than it deserves, I think. A partnership might not be a bad thing. I’d rather have shit in writing—signed, sealed and delivered—than sitting around waiting for an atomic fucking bomb to explode around me.”

Instead of agreeing with him, because honestly, I feel the same fucking way, I decide to go over the terms. They are simple but still a lot more than he would be willing to give them. Unfolding my leg, I bend slightly and place my forearms on my knees before I continue.

“I’m not sure what the fuck you’re gonna say. But they love what we’re doing in Vegas. They want to extend that to encompass all the areas they have operations in. Dallas, Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, mainly major cities. They want us to collect their loan payments, which has turned into us being able to contract for new jobs. It’s worked out well. Everything is a fixed payment.”