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“Club has been going through more cash than supplies lately, but I’ll hit up inventory again.” He gives the tip of his deep beige nose a small scratch, his signature contemplation action. “Stock what’s necc.”

His attention shifts to the Misfit that’s standing behind Toke. “Tex.”

“They’ve tried to hire the usual outside contractors to handle their transport – and us – but been unsuccessful. HE – along with their less than legal ties – have all turned them down – per the information spread through chapter pipelines – and a few of the other MC clubs they’ve reached out to have denied them as well knowing war with us is not good for business nor their reputations.”

War can be profitable.

But it’s always fucking expensive.

Cash.

Supplies.

Lives.

“The Berkleys are getting desperate so, they’ll likely search out of country next. My guess would be the DR or maybe Haiti. He’s got connections to connections that have connections there.”

“Say connections again,” teases Charlie “Ink” Teo, from his seat on the other side of Kegger.

Post flashing him his middle finger, Tex adds, “I expect something to show up on my radar in the next couple of days or so – assuming he figures out a way to tap funds.”

“Gonna keep all his digital shit on lock as best I can,” Dive declares to the room. “Now, if the motherfucker ends up in a bathtub of ice, missing a kidney, with a duffle bag of fresh Bennys for his trouble, there’s not a lot I can do about that.”

Small chuckles leave us all.

“They’re leaving Avallone,” declares Stone in a firm yet mirthful tone, “whether that’s whole or in pieces is entirely up to them.”

Chapter 13

Emaline

I’m being haunted.

I just know it.

I just never thought it would happen to me.

Maybe that’s because I never really saw myself dating, so when you’re not actively dating the chance of you being haunted is much lower.

It’s not like I have friends that can do it to me.

I imagine that sucks too.

I once had a colleague who haunted me, but they were fired by the end of the school year for doing a naughty teacher stripper routine on a holiday weekend for some of the parents, so them totally ignoring me after one awkward, iced latte exchange sort of just saved me fuss and muss at a later date.

And Gam Gam could never haunt me when she was alive because we lived in the same house.

And my cat can’t haunt me because I’m the one who feeds him.

Now, if he could figure out how to open his own food or grow opposable thumbs?

He absolutely would.

I guess I’m just not that likeable.

Or loveable.

You know unless you’re a dying, elderly woman or hyperactive, whimsical child under the age of nine.