AllFreeNovel
Share Us
So here I am, ready to push this illegal drug deal with a Motorcycle gang on behalf of my father, the benevolent drug lord.
“You think this is really going to work?” Beck asks, looking around the parking lot, making sure we weren’t followed. Beckett was reluctant to come out here with me since it’s usually Ace and I who take care of this side of the business, but as my stepbrother my father gave him no choice.
“No but we have no other option. We need to leave here tonight with a contract signed by Zeke himself agreeing to what we’ve laid out for him. Ace and I came up with the deal, it’s full proof, they either agree or they’re screwed. It won’t be easy but we’ll get it done.” Saying it out loud I almost believe it. Zeke St. Germain, the President of The Pleasant Hills Cobras MC, would be stupid not to take the deal.
Given the fact that we now know Kai is Zeke’s nephew, I’m surprised we’ve never run into him or any of the other two guys around these parts. Who would have guessed that the nephew of a Motorcycle gang President we do dealings with, would move into our town, attend our school, and infiltrate our group of friends. It’s a small, small world.
“I admire your confidence brother, especially when it comes to illegal drug deals with fucking criminals,” Beck scoffs, turning away from me seemingly annoyed. He’s opted out of wearing his usual button-down shirts, and instead changed into a dark gray T-shirt and his tight skinny jeans, making him fit in better and not stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this.
“Whether we like it or not, we have to accept the fact that our hands are stained too Beck. Growing up in this world, being part of it, did that to us, but now we have a choice in the matter. This is the last thing I’m doing for him. Once Ace and I close this deal, we’re done.”
“How many times have we heard that Bass?”
We walk up to the back door, where a man donning The Cobras cut, black leather and a green cobra crest, guards the door staring intently at us before calling someone on his phone. I laugh at his attempt to warn the others of our arrival, when Zeke is well aware we were on our way here.
However, to our surprise, Zeke isn’t the one who appears at the door to greet us.
“Well if it isn’t my favorite Silver,” he says, stepping out and extending a hand to me. I look down at his open palm, thinking about the different ways I could break it and drag his ass to the floor.
Kane fucking Dalton.
“What the fuck are you doing here Dalton?” I sneer, stepping into him but not making it far before Beck’s arms come around me holding me back. I look up and notice five of Kane’s men, all dressed in three-piece suits, have emerged from the building.
“Well I guess it was stupid of me to expect a friendlier greeting,” Kane utters, sarcastically the men behind him laughing in sync like fucking robots. Pathetic.
“Well I must say, I didn’t think the notorious God of Galen Grove would dare step foot in these slums to do his own dirty work. Don’t you hire these goons for that? Or are they all as stupid as Skeet and his friend?”
A sinister cackle leaves him, amused by my retort. “Yes, I’m afraid Skeet and Toby are fucking morons, but I keep them around because they’re the best god damn shot this side of the coast. Besides, if I’m not mistaken, Skeet is quite fond of your girl. I mean I don’t blame him, she’s quite the catch. Would make me an easy mil on the market.”
“You fucking asshole!” I shout, pouncing on him, but I’m quickly pushed back by three of his men. Two of them, one on each arm, hold me back as another punches me in the stomach, making me crouch forward in pain.
“Now, now, I was told you had better manners son,” Kane says mockingly, his clandestine cat-like eyes staring astutely at me.
I spit out at his feet, staining his suede Tom Ford oxfords, as I try to pull out of his men’s hold. “Stay the fuck away from her Dalton, I swear to God if you so much as touch a hair on her, you’re a dead man.”
Kane’s loud laughter echoes through the empty parking lot, as more men appear coming out from the bar, each with a woman dressed in the skimpiest dresses, on their arm.
“Kane, I thought I asked you nicely to not spill any blood on my property. I don’t need the Feds coming around and sniffing blood on my turf, I can’t afford to clean your mess.” Zeke St. Germain appears from the shadows, the cobra tattoo he and all of his men get around their necks when inducted, visible with his long dreads pulled back into a bun, his beard is trimmed shorter than the last time I saw him, and the scar across his eyebrow make him look every bit the ultimate biker. Not at all like Kane and his men who look more like the crooks working on Wall-Street.
Kane steps around Zeke, placing an arm around his shoulder. “I wasn't planning on it, I swear, just ran into an old friend that’s all.”
Zeke shakes his head clearly not amused by Kane’s phony response, “Silver, what brings you to my side of town?” he asks, stepping out from under Kane’s arm and walking forward to meet me.
I decide to not take the bait Kane is clearly throwing my way and instead focus on why I’m really here. The faster I get this deal out here the quicker I can go back to see Jade. “You know exactly why I’m here Zeke, let’s not play these stupid little games, leave that to the idiots in suits. Invite me in, pour me a glass, let's talk business like real men.”
I can see the veins on Kane’s neck twitching in anger, but before he can respond to my insult, Zeke comes forward. “I want no more business with you and your father Silver. Wesley’s death was the best damn thing that happened for me and my boys.”
“Wesley’s death is as insignificant as he was,” I scoff, scowling deeply at him. “You know Zeke, Wes was never really the one in charge, especially not of the KISS. You’re in trouble, the gun violence staining these pretty little streets of yours is getting out of control. I’m here to help you out. I mean the last thing you want is the Feds showing up around here asking questions about these infamous, ghost gun suppliers. You need out of the gun trade, but you also need more money than what you're making dealing for my father.”
“I already told your old man before, I don’t want in on his fucking poison. I let my men deal for him because I’m no one to stop them from making a living for themselves, but my club wants no part of it.” Zeke takes a step forward meeting me head on. He smells of sweat, tobacco, and cheap bourbon, a nauseating scent. “He’s offered before and I kindly declined. Don’t make me say it again.”
I can’t help the smirk that appears on my face at his show of power. I may be more than half this man’s age, but in our trade, wealth, and status reign supreme. He knows well enough I sit at the top of the food chain while he kisses the bottom of my feet. The only downside to that, Kane sit’s right beside me on the devil’s gilded throne.
“The difference is now, you need it,” I respond, making a point to walk around him and directly speak to his men who watch us intently. “Your boys won’t be making shit without the guns and without the supply.” I turn back to Zeke, who’s scowl proves he knows I’m right. “You take this deal, you’ll be seeing a lot more than your feeble little minds can imagine.”
“So what do you say St. Germain?” Beck asks, surprising me by coming forward to pat Zeke on the back looking all businesslike. Well what do you know, looks like someone’s willing to learn after all.
“Welcome to The Cobras Clubhouse boys.”
