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But I dunno.
I guess I just wanted to keep it to myself.
“Oh, come o—“ Levee started, breaking off on the sound of a car horn beeping out front.
We didn’t have any neighbors.
“More club girls?” I asked as Levee shook his head, suddenly sober, and ready for anything.
“Girls, stay here,” he told them. “Keep an eye on ‘em,” he added to Eddie, getting a nod as I reached for my gun, and he went to fetch his own.
Then we moved around the house, pulses pounding, ready for just about anything.
“Christ,” I hissed at the sight of the very familiar car.
Riff and Raff were dropping in for a visit.
Riff and Raff, twin brothers from our sister chapter in Shady Valley. They were kind of nomads, spending most of their time driving around the South, hitting up gun shows, buying shit that would never trace back to them or the club, and driving the illegal guns back to California to be shipped out to clients.
The thing was, our business had really started taking off in Golden Glades ever since we made a deal with Zayn, an international arms dealer, who had clients all over the world. Ones who paid a pretty penny for the guns we could supply.
The problem was, we couldn’t find enough guns from our usual sources to keep up with Zayn’s contacts’ needs.
Enter Riff and Raff.
Who were willing to supply to us, for a cut to the Shady Valley crew.
The car pulled inside, and I’d seen it several times now, knowing that the panels inside pulled out, so guns could be stored inside. Same for the floors and even some of the seats.
Riff and Raff climbed out a second later.
The family resemblance was obvious.
Both men were tall and fit, dark-haired, dark-eyed, with square jaws. The differences were subtle. Riff, the older brother by a few minutes, had a sort of cultured stubble and one arm sleeve. Raff was clean shaven, but was completely covered in ink.
They were dissimilar in personality, too. Riff was a bit more standoffish, more serious. Raff was out there and wild, always down for a good time. Which was what they were probably looking for.
“Weren’t expecting you,” I said, shaking Riff’s hand.
“We’re between shows and meet-ups,” he said. “Hanging here sounded better than another hotel.”
“Well, good timing!” Levee said, always happy for more people to party with. “We got some pretty girls. Beers are cold. Eddie has ribs on the grill…”
The party was still going strong when I made my way inside, tucking Mackie—the club’s blue and gold macaw—into his cage for the night, so he didn’t get into any sort of trouble.
“Fuck you, Benny,” he grumbled with a lot more vitriol than usual, likely pissed that his plans for trouble were thwarted for the night.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, turning the light lower, so he could hopefully get some sleep, even with the party raging outside.
“Christ, you’re getting in late,” I said as Alaric came in through the front door, carrying his usual gym bag.
“Had to hit the gym.”
If anything, Alaric needed to lay off the gym. He’d been getting skinnier than ever lately. Enough so that some of the guys had even tried to talk to him about a possible eating disorder. It… hadn’t gone well.
Now, he was just working out 24/7.
I mean, I worked out a lot. I liked to keep definition, keep up my strength. And I was always trying different shit. I’d recently picked up indoor rock climbing, something that worked damn near every muscle group, and especially grip strength.
