Page 276 of Devil’s Disciples

He shook his head. “I can’t discuss club business.”

His response sent me right back to feeling sick. The thought of losing him was real, and I didn’t like it one bit. He was either going to need to trust me, or chance losing me. I couldn’t be part of mass-murder plot or turn the other cheek if they were shooting gas station attendants in failed robbery attempts.

There were, however, some scenarios I could accept. Stealing truckloads of cigarettes and selling them on the black market was fine. Manufacturing methamphetamines wasn’t. My mind was going a thousand different directions and I wasn’t thinking clearly.

My eyes welled with tears. “Porter, I’m scared shitless right now, and I don’t want this, or anything, to come between us. Can you. Can you give an example of what you’re talking about? If you can’t, we might need to quit seeing one another.”

I couldn’t believe the words that came out of my mouth. I wanted to take them back, but it was too late.

His expressionless look changed to one of worry.

With a tight jaw, he studied me.

“I need you to trust me,” I begged. ‘You can’t expect me to accept who you are if you won’t tell me who you truly are. I’ve hidden nothing from you. Be truthful with me and let me make a decision based on the truth.”

He continued to stare. Fear clouded his eyes, leaving them dull and without much emotion other than distress.

“Do you trust me?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Prove it,” I demanded. “Prove you trust me.”

He blew out a long exhaustive breath, and then met my gaze. “Every one of us takes a stance against drug dealers, and what their dope does to society. It’s pretty common for us to rob drug dealers.”

“At gunpoint?” I asked.

He shook his head. “We’re professionals. Did you watch Ocean’s Eleven?”

I’d seen the movie more than once. If the crimes depicted in the movies were what his club was doing, it was going to go from bad to good in instant.

“We’re kind of like that,” he explained. “A computer expert to manipulate the alarms. Explosives expert to divert attention. A weapons expert just in case. A man damned good at planning to put everything together. A getaway driver to make a quick escape.”

“And you split the money?” I asked.

He chuckled. “We give more than half of it to charity. The club’s president is like Robin Hood. He doesn’t do it for the thrill, or for the financial gain. He does it for the betterment of mankind. When we rob drug dealers, we burn the dope in the desert, just to make sure it doesn’t end up on the streets. He gives the money away like candy to the unfortunate.”

“So, you don’t manage car washes?” I asked.

“No,” he responded. “That’s true. I do manage car washes.”

“And you rob drug dealers?”

He laced his fingers and leaned forward. “The last job we did was this: a woman had her retirement account compromised, and two million dollars of her savings was taken. The financial institution wasn’t able to find it, but we did. We recovered the money and gave it to her.”

I was fascinated. I shouldn’t have been, but I was. “Cyber banking stuff?”

He shook his head. “No. Someone drained her accounts and converted it to cash. Then, he took the cash home and had it in his safe. We recovered it.”

“So, you physically took it back? That kind of recovery?”

He nodded. “Correct.”

I braced myself for the fact that at least one of them was a murderer. “What did you do to the guy that took it?”

“Advised him to keep his mouth shut, or we’d turn him in to the law for the crime.”

It sounded like he was more of a vigilante than a criminal. Granted, he was committing crimes, but they weren’t crimes against humanity. My gaze dropped to the table as I absorbed everything he’d said. While I tried to make sense of it all, he cleared his throat.