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She screamed at the top of her lungs like a petulant child.
A knock sounded on my office door. I grunted and pulled the cigarette from between my lips. “What?” I barked. I was neck-deep in checking over the books. I trusted Geek to always have everything done right; I hadn’t ever found a mistake. But he and I both agreed that two sets of eyes were better than one. So, for years now, we had a system of him doing the books, and then I would check over them to make sure nothing was messed up anywhere.
Trigger pushed the door open. Trigger was my Sergeant at Arms. When I’d still been trying to build this club up, he’d been nothing but a prospect, a kid eager to belong to something. Barely eighteen, a high-school drop-out, determined to not be addicted to drugs like his parents.
We’d been involved in a shootout during a run, and he’d taken two shots for me—one to the stomach and one to the thigh. He’d barely fucking made it to the hospital in time to save him, but when he came out of the woods, I patched him in as my Sergeant at Arms. I trusted him with my life, and he didn’t take that trust lightly.
“Texas charter just rode in. Scorpion’s ready to see you.”
Scorpion was the president of my Texas charter. He was cold, calculated, and ruthless—the best president I could have for that charter. He’d been pulling in a fuck ton of profit for the entire club because of his connections to the Savage Crows MC—both the Texas charter and the mother charter—the Sons of Hell, Fathers of Mayhem, and the Mexican cartel.
He’d crossed me wrong by blowing up my Texas charter clubhouse a while back in retaliation for the shit they did to his old lady, the then-president’s little sister, but after looking into him, I knew he’d be a good addition to my club.
So, I made him the president. I prided myself on having only the best men in this club, so I had a “law” that if you took out the president, you took that patch. But I’d been planning on killing Scorpion. He’d sabotaged me. But he had a damn good head on his shoulders and too many connections to not take advantage of making him the prez.
One of the best decisions I’d made.
“Send him on in,” I told Trigger.
He nodded once and slipped from my office, returning a few moments later with Scorpion, but still giving me enough time to clear my desk of the books, locking them in the filing cabinet behind me. Anything to do with my club, I kept locked up tight. Fuck a filing cabinet. They were too damn easy to break into.
I stood when Scorpion stepped into the room. Trigger waited for my command. I nodded once at him, and he quietly shut the door behind him with a soft click, leaving Scorpion and me to discuss his recent run with the SCMC Texas Charter.
I clapped him on the back. “Take a seat,” I ordered while I dropped into mine behind my desk. I glanced over at him, noting the bags under his eyes. “Didn’t get much sleep?”
He just smirked. “You know how old ladies are—they hate being apart. Can’t say my dick complained though.”
I barked out a laugh, nothing showing on my face at the old lady comment. I might have known if I’d been smarter when I was younger, but I chose the wrong woman to marry, and it had caused me nothing but hell since. I had to instead either rely on my hand or one of the club bunnies to get off. I knew Wendy was fucking around, too, but I didn’t give a shit.
She could fuck whoever she wanted as long as she didn’t bring them into my house, and so far, she hadn’t. She was at leastthatsmart. We just had a silent agreement of sorts to make sure neither of us was caught.
“How’d the run go?” I asked him, ready to get down to business.
“Smooth. Met up with Grim, Alex, and Bullet in Houston. Did the exchange. Headed back home. I’m waiting on a call from River to find out when he wants his shipment.”
River was the president of the Fathers of Mayhem MC. He was a silent, broody type, and he never expanded his empire, only keeping what he needed and never taking over more territory. Men that were powerful but weren’t power-hungry were the ones you needed to watch out for, and also the ones you wanted to keep on your side.
Especially since River’s old lady had an attachment to the president of the Sons of Hell, whose stepson was the son of Alejandro, the Mexican cartel’s leader. One fuck-up with River could send everything Scorpion and I had worked together to build into destruction.
Scorpion reached into his cut and pulled out an envelope, handing it to me. “Do your count so I know we’re good,” he said, inclining his head to the envelope in my hands.
I pulled out the wad of cash and began to count. Scorpion sat quietly, his eyes shut, but I knew he was aware of every single thing happening around him. He was like me—didn’t let his guard down a single bit, not even during sleep.
Once I’d counted twice, I put it back in the envelope. “Count’s good,” I told him. “Go on out and enjoy the party. I’ll be out in a bit.”
He nodded once and left my office. I got up and put the money in the safe to deal with tomorrow during church, and then I pulled the books back out to finish looking over them.
Work now. Play after. That was how I always did shit.
And fuck knew I needed to play—preferably in some wet pussy that didn’t fucking argue with me about petty bullshit.
CHAPTER TWO
Aaliyah
It was too early for this bullshit.
I’d worked late last night at the clubhouse, making sure liquor was stocked, there was enough beer, and making sure all the glasses were cleaned and spotless so the guys would have what they needed before the scheduled bartender for the evening came in. The Texas charter of Satan’s Worshippers MC was riding in today, and I knew there would be a party. I was off tonight—the other bartender, Lani, taking the shift—but I still needed more fucking sleep.
