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I’d remain his V.P. but we all knew when the time came it was my club. Hell, it was my club now.
Mack didn’t make a single call without my input. He knew how much I grew to love the RRMC and the brothers who made our clubhouse their home. It was gonna take a hell of a lot more than a few RICO agents to tear down the Ravage Riders.
Sighing, I sat on the steel bench and lifted a leg, one arm dangling across my knee. I needed to think. At Church we discussed Forman Industries and Maxwell Forman as a possible buyer for the properties around Scarlet Syn. Some were purchased through Forman, but others were named a dummy corporation. I scanned the internet and found nothing on Calder Manufacturing, LLC. They didn’t exist. Which meant someone was trying to accumulate a lot of property fast on our end of Providence.
There weren’t many buyers with that kind of cash. Forman Industries was a top competitor but there were a few others. I didn’t put it past any of our rivals to try and force us out. It was business. Squash the smaller guys under you until you reached the top. Then all you have to do is maintain.
A basic concept I was working on with Mack.
We had our strip club with plans to open several more in the surrounding cities, a lucrative video porn business that scouted new talent from all over California, and we dealt minimally with drugs and guns. Both were something the RRMC wanted to get away from and earn legit. We set up a few pawn shops that were starting to bring in a steady flow over the last few months and I told Mack we needed to look into other avenues.
The point was that we landed on someone’s radar recently. The Outlaws? Barry Forman? Both?
My gut said yes and that meant the other side was playing dirty.
Precisely why RICO was breathing down our ass.
That left two big worries. One, Devlin and his club were looking for vengeance. Everyone I knew and loved was in danger. Two, Maxwell Forman now wanted a piece of us too. When we snatched Cara out from under his nose, I was certain he was pissed.
We needed to get the hell out of this jail. I couldn’t protect my club or my family sitting behind bars. Mack tapped the metal with his fingers in a consistent rhythm, and I knew he was planning something. He’d used his phone call to contact our lawyer, Sidney Vaughn. We kept the guys on retainer. If nothing else, we would at least make bail. How quickly it went through would depend on the Feds. If anyone could make this right it was Mack. He had connections. The kind that went way back to the founding days of the RRMC and Rae’s father Ron.
Impatient, I tried not to let my thoughts linger on Rae. It would only piss me off without an outlet.
Closing my eyes, I decided to rest and conserve my energy. I didn’t know what the fuck would go down in the next few hours. No telling what RICO would try to pull before Sidney could get us out.
My mind kept returning to Rae and the baby. I never thought I’d get the chance to give her what she wanted, to start a family, and marry the girl I loved. Now that reality was here, I would kill to make sure we had our happily ever after. No one was gonna stop me.
Rae
DETECTIVE SIMS WAS still located in the same offices in Juniper Hills, just thirty minutes away from Providence. The same town Mack lived in before he became the pres of the RRMC. The place where my dad Ron met my mother Sarah. I was born in Juniper Hills. My parents bought a house in Providence once they got married. There was a lot of history here.
The secretary smile as I waltzed in, then her jaw dropped. She remembered who I was. Witness Protection was supposed to save my life. It didn’t. I almost died twice, and the agents did nothing to protect me when all that shit went down six years ago. I risked my life to bring down a monster and Devlin was still walking the streets. The Feds owed me.
I didn’t bother asking permission, just walked right into his office where he was shuffling papers and on speaker phone with someone. He had his hand down his pan
ts and it seemed the call was more than a little personal. Folding my arms across my chest, I decided to end his little charade so I could take care of business.
“Who are you on the phone with Paul? Isn’t that against company policy?”
The woman on the other end began yelling and cussing him out and he blushed, hanging up on her. Obviously, it wasn’t serious. He turned around, arranged his clothes, and stood up as he placed a file in front of his crotch. No doubt he was hiding his erection. Fine by me. I didn’t want to see his needle dick anyway.
“Hello, Detective Sims. It’s been a while.”
Six months if I counted correctly.
“Rae!” he exclaimed, trying to be professional. “I’m so surprised to see you.”
I bet. “No doubt you are, especially since I haven’t heard from you since I was kidnapped and awaiting my death. Don’t you have caller I.D.? Is your messaging system broken? Oh wait, I texted that day too.”
“Now, Rae,” he began, knowing my temper. “The Feds pulled me off your case. I was forbidden to answer or interact.”
Uh huh. Sure. “That’s not believable, you know. Forget I know Sheriff Daly personally? I met with agents over a period of weeks. No one mentioned anything.”
He seemed flustered. “I guess I failed you.”
In more ways than one. He wasn’t the man I thought he was at all. How disappointing.
“I need your help.”
