Page 408 of Devil’s Disciples

“God damn it Cash, apologize!” Goose snarled.

“All I did was say I can’t take that bitch seriously. So fucking what.”

“Apologize,” Tito insisted.

Cash leaned forward so close I could feel his breath against my neck. “Drive the fuck out of here, you mouthy little Bitch.”

I was a woman that had been tossed into a testosterone-rich all-man crew. I didn’t regret accepting the offer. In fact, even after Cash’s comment, I remained elated that the club had given me the opportunity.

But.

I refused to work with someone who treated me disrespectfully. Cash didn’t have to respect me, but I wouldn’t allow him to openly disrespect me.

Tension was mounting. Everyone started shouting. Some demanding we leave, others that Cash apologize.

“Everyone stop!” I screamed.

I turned in my seat until I was facing Cash. Reno and Tito, seated beside him, stared at me with wide eyes and open mouths.

“Out of respect for the other men in this crew,” I said through my clenched teeth. “I’m driving out of here. Before we leave the clubhouse tonight, you will apologize. If you don’t, you’re not going to have to worry about how you’re going to spend your cut.”

He stared. Apparently, he wasn’t used to having a woman stand up to him. Satisfied, I turned around.

“What the fuck does that mean?” he asked.

I didn’t respond.

If he didn’t apologize, he’d simply find out.

150

Goose

We were passed by one CHP officer on the freeway. He didn’t so much as give us a second look. Immediately after we took the exit to go to the clubhouse, a San Diego police officer pulled alongside us at a traffic light. Upon seeing him, my butthole cinched tight.

Much to everyone’s surprise, Ally rolled down the window and flashed him a smile. When the light turned green, he waved playfully before speeding away.

If the tension between Cash and Ally could be eliminated, I’d label the job—and our new group— a one hundred percent success.

In the planning meeting, Ally’s ideas—and her ability to express them—made me proud. Her later recommendation to hit a bank in a wealthy suburb was obviously spot-on. When she opened the bank’s vault, the pride I felt for her grew.

I realized from years of experience that performing a simple task under duress wasn’t an easy thing to do. Manipulating the lock of a bank’s vault while working against the clock—and in the dark—was impressive.

Nothing, however, would ever make me prouder than seeing her stand up for herself against Cash.

We made it to the shop without incident. After dumping our bags onto the dining room table, we separated the money into stacks based on the demonization of the bills.

As we worked in awkward silence, Baker walked into the room and paused. With his hands on his hips, he looked at each of us. I made the mistake of locking eyes with him.

“Want to tell me what the fuck’s going on?” he asked.

I broke his gaze and looked away. “Job went slick, Boss.”

He shifted his eyes to Ally. “Any particular reason the getaway vehicle didn’t get away? You sat in the fucking parking lot for five goddamned minutes before you left. Longest five fucking minutes of my entire life, I might add. I wasn’t sure what the fuck to do. We didn’t discuss stall tactics. I didn’t know if I was supposed to lead, follow, or sit there with my thumb in my ass.”

Everyone except for Ally looked at Cash.

“The ECM had to update,” she said. “It’s unfortunate, but it happens.”