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With a nod, Jinx said, “Yeah, he couldn’t brag loud enough. Get this, at the last fight, Prick walked away with ten Gs. He takes half the pot. Rest is for winners.”
“Shit, he made ten thousand dollars in one night of fighting dogs?” Tracker’s voice hardened to a murderous degree. “That’s some serious cheddar.”
“Yep. Said it’s even higher sometimes,” Pulse chimed in.
The entire setup turned Curly’s stomach. He’d love nothing more than to dump Prick’s body in the ring with his dogs. Give him a taste of what those poor animals went through.
With the cops in his pocket, it’s no wonder he’s so willing to blab about his operation,” Ty said. “He’s not worried about getting busted.”
“All I had to do was convince him I had money to burn, and he was practically salivating. Told him I used to bet on shit like this when I lived in Alabama. Gave him my number, and he’s going to text me the location afternoon of. Boom.” Jinx grinned a victorious smile as he mimed a mic drop.
“All right,” Curly stroked a hand over his rough cheek. Shit, he’d probably given Brooke a wicked case of beard burn. Not that he regretted it. The thought of sitting across from her at breakfast with his mark on her skin had the cock he’d managed to control on the way home acting up again. “Sounds like we’ve got two weeks to figure out how we want to play this shit.”
Maybe he’d give Copper a ring to ask his advice. It’d been a long time since Curly had been in charge of anything or anyone but himself. Copper had a way of leading his men through difficult situations successfully while weeding out the bullshit and commanding fierce loyalty.
Yes, the Handlers had experienced loss, devastating loss, but Copper was a smart man whose club members would follow him to hell and back a dozen times.
“Let’s give it some thought over the next few days and meet up on Wednesday night. That work for you guys?”
When they all nodded, Ty said, “When are we thinking about making this club official? Patching in, getting cuts and shit?”
Curly smiled. “I’ve ordered cuts and patches for everyone. They should be in soon. Once they’re here, one of the guys from Tennessee will ride down to swear you all in with me. You’ll be taking the same oath they do up there. Same one I did. We’ll be following their club bylaws but can amend them as necessary. There’ll be a chance to back out first if you change your mind, but once you patch in, you’re committed.” He focused on Pulse as he delivered that little pep talk.
“Nah,” Pulse said, lifting his beer in salute. “Think we’re all locked in now.”
“Good deal,” Curly said with a single nod. Pulse talked a good game and had done his job well tonight, but something about the man still niggled the back of Curly’s mind. He wouldn’t be surprised if that man never wore a patch.
They hung out for a while longer, until well past midnight, and Curly was ready for some quiet time. This was why they needed a clubhouse. A place for them all to hang but where he could disappear when he needed a break.
Finally, somewhere around two a.m., Curly crawled into bed naked, wrapped a fist around his aching cock, and jacked himself to a bone-rattling climax with memories of the way Brooke shouted his name ringing in his ears.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ONE OF BROOKE’S favorite things about living in Florida was not freezing her ass off during the early morning trudge out to feed her foster babies. She could make her way to the kennels at seven in the morning dressed only in her sleep shorts and a tank and be perfectly comfortable almost all year round.
“Who’s hungry?” she called out as she did every morning when she emerged into the bright sunshine. The yips and yaps of excited dogs never failed to draw a smile from her. Who wouldn’t love to be greeted with extreme enthusiasm every time they walked in the room?
Ray strolled along beside her until nature called, then he veered off to take care of business. Already the morning sun warmed her skin, and the dew had her feet wet inside her flip-flops.
“What the…” she said as she reached her kennels only to find a folded piece of paper nailed to the center of the door.
She yanked the small nail out of the wood with a frown. Had one of her clients left it yesterday, and she’d somehow missed it? As she unfolded the paper then read the scrawled words, her heart plummeted to her feet.
Cute dogs. Be a shame if something were to happen to them.
Her stomach lurched, and she nearly vomited the half cup of coffee she’d sucked down before venturing outside. Beyond the door, the dogs continued barking. No doubt they were confused as to why she hadn’t come to greet them yet. Heart in her throat, she whipped her head around, scanning the expanse of the fenced-in yard.
