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I hired Jim and gave him full reign of the bar, letting the guys know that it’s a working bar. They pay their tabs just like they would out in town. Jim orders everything from glasses to alcohol to beer. We pay for what we drink.
My plan was having a bar that included all sorts of alcoholic drinks, energy drinks, and sodas. The bikers had to pay then be served with a drink of their choice just like in regular bars and so far it’s worked out. The profits earned would be used to pay the bartender, Jim, who was more than happy to come work for me and also, I was paying him thirty percent more than what he earned in the previous bar. The rest of the profits were used in developing the club house. If anyone decided to waste their drink, that would be on them. Intentional breaking of drinking glasses was not ignored. Anyone who intentionally broke a glass had to replace it. We didn't need a cleaning lady after that and Jim could easily handle everything in the club house. Some thought I was strict while some thought I was sucking the fun out of the club and its activities. All I wanted was to make the club better and everything I was doing was aimed at it. I didn't care what the few, shallow-minded bikers thought. After all, I am the Outlaw.
Fifteen minutes before departure the following day, all the riders are outside the clubhouse with their bikes ready. Knuckles decided to join us too. I knew he wasn't dumb enough to miss such an adventure. Jim is among us tonight in a slightly baggy leather jacket with the club's name and logo he borrowed from me.
"We should always look out for each other, I shouldn't have to tell you that but tonight, I have to remind you," I start, drawing everyone's attention. “At worst, we will be attacked by snipers and sharp shooters with way powerful weapons, we can handle that. If things go well, we will be back here in a few hours celebrating. Let's all look forward to that. Hades!"
"Hades!" they respond in unison.
"You ready, Jimmy?"
"Of course. They are just snipers and sharp shooters with powerful weapons. It'll be a walk in the park."
He is jogging around and taking long deep breaths.
"It's just a possibility that it might happen."
"I know." He hops on the back of my bike. I lead the way with Hawk next to me as everyone else follows.
In an hour, we are at the warehouse where Enzo is already waiting. It's 9: 43 p.m. We are seventeen minutes early. There's a crane lifting a container in the distance. That, I assume, is the container we will be escorting.
"Mr. Outlaw. Thank you for your timely arrival," Enzo says stretching his hand towards me for a handshake.
"I wouldn't want anything to go wrong," I respond, shaking his hand. The woman he was with at the casino is behind him. She looks stranded and restless. It's like she does not have a choice but to be there and she wants to be anywhere but here.
"Mmm. Are your men ready?"
"All of them."
"Good. The container is being secured on a trailer as we speak. You will be out of here in no time."
"All right."
He turns and goes to where she is standing. Enzo wraps his arm around her waist and leads her towards the container.
What is she doing out here and why does she seem uncomfortable? Could it be that she owns part of the shipment and is worried something might go wrong? That makes sense but what about the casino? She was not comfortable there either yet didn't leave Enzo's side the whole time. Maybe she didn't want to bump into other men.
"Why am I even thinking this? It's none of my concern," I mutter to myself with my eyes on the disappearing couple.
"What is none of your concern?" Jim suddenly asks, standing beside me.
"It's none if your concern either."
"Fair enough. So, when are we getting out of here? It's creepy as hell."
"For crying out loud, Jimmy. There's a woman here who seems to be doing way better than you. Pull yourself together," I lecture softly.
"Her?" He asks pointing at Enzo and the girl who just then take a turn.
"Yes. I don't think there's another woman out here."
"Oh, I don't think she willingly came out here."
I turn to Jim with a concerned look. "What do you mean?"
"I have heard several times that the famous Italian Mafia boss, Enzo, owns a sex slave. I don't know whether that is true and I honestly don't care but I believe that is the lady he uses and the only reason she is here is because he dragged her here. That is the Italian Mafia boss, Enzo, right?"
"Right," I respond, mind already snatched by everything Jim just said.
