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“I wasn’t aware King planned on stepping in. I’ll handle this.”
“You do that, my friend, because if I hear from King again, things aren’t going to go well for Storm. Also, I heard whisperings that Zenith are making plans again. Something you might want to keep an eye on.”
With that, he slips his glasses back on and leaves Ransom and me.
“Trouble?” Ransom asks as we watch Javier leave.
“You could say that.” I hope to fuck I can fix it, because Storm will be screwed if I can’t. “He also told me Zenith might become a problem again.” After we thought we wiped them out seven years ago, they started back up in Adelaide. Since they left town and kept out of our shit, and since we wanted to lay low where the feds were concerned, we’ve left them alone. I’ve made sure we’re ready if they ever show up here again, though.
“I’ll get Hunt to do some digging.” He checks his phone as a text comes through and then glances back at me. “You heading back to the clubhouse now?”
“I’m going to find Striker and have a word, and then I’m taking off for the day. Get Hunt to make Zenith his priority. I want to know exactly what those assholes are up to.”
“Will do,” he says before leaving me.
I pull out my phone and bring up King’s number.
“You finished with Torres?” he says.
“Yeah and I would have appreciated some notice that you were planning negotiations with him. He’s pissed that you reached out, King.”
“I don’t give a fuck that he’s pissed. It’s long past time to renegotiate price.”
“Yeah, but he won’t do that with you and you know that. And quite fucking honestly, you should have brought this up with me yesterday so I could start the negotiations with him today.”
“I run this fucking operation, Winter; I don’t need to bring anything up with you before I decide to do it.”
“Yeah, you do run it, but who the fuck runs the day-to-day of it? I’ll fucking tell you who: me. And I’ll also tell you that if you keep this shit up, Torres is walking away. Back the fuck down, King, and let me get this done.”
“You wanna try that again, brother?”
“No I don’t wanna fucking try that again.” Fuck. “I want you to listen for one goddam time in your life because this will be make or break for Storm. We’ve got a good business here; you continue down this path and you’ll shoot it all to shit.”
“This is the path we’re going down so I suggest you either get the fuck on board or step the fuck out of my way.”
The line goes dead.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I stretch my neck and force out some breaths. King and I have had some heated discussions over the years, but this has reached a new level. He’s being fucking stubborn. And foolish. And I’m going to have to go up against him again because someone has to make him see sense. I’ve worked too damn hard on our business to let him fuck it up.
My phone rings and I answer it when I see Ransom’s name.
“What’s up?”
“Just letting you know that Striker’s at his old lady’s place.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
Thirty minutes later, Melody opens her front door to me, looking pissed. “Fuck, Winter, I was sleeping. I’m on night shift this week.”
I have very little time for this woman. She’s as much a pain in my ass as Striker is. And on top of that, she’s rude to Birdie every time they interact. “I need to speak to Striker.”
The hatred burning in her eyes is fierce when she says, “Yeah, fuck you, too, asshole. You guys are all the same. Rude as fuck.”
Striker appears behind her, looking less than impressed. “Shut the fuck up, Melody, and go back to bed.”
It’s no wonder she’s a bitter, hard woman; putting up with his shit would make me bitter too.
