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Turning my head, I look over to see a man in a cut that has a prospect patch on the chest. I almost laugh because I know this man’s station, and I can tell he’s trying to be a badass right now but decide against it.
“I am,” I say with a smile. “Reese.”
He smirks, his eyes searching mine. “I’m Justin,” he replies.
Giving him a smile, I take a step back, but he calls my name. “Reese?” Instead of answering him, I tilt my head to the side so he knows I’m listening to him. “This place is mostly fine, but it can get a little rough. If you need any help, you just let me know, yeah?”
I’m sure he’d love to help me… right out of my pants. The Reese before Agony would have no problem letting him do just that. I’m not her, though. So, instead of flirting back with him, I hum, give him a tight-lipped smile, then turn back to the bar and start taking orders.
Phoenix might feel more like home, but it isn’t home, and I may be working in a bar for cash, but it isn’t where I want to be, not truly anyway.
AGONY
“So, you’ve been moving these girls for them? Why?” Legacy demands.
Duke snorts. “Cash is king,” he states with a shrug of his shoulder. “And the Hell’s Souls like cash. It takes a hell of a lot of money to run our club, to send back to the original charter.”
He’s right. Cash is king. But morals are something that matters, too. I don’t say that, though. As much as I want to be a fucking dick about it, it’s not really my business. I just facilitated this meeting, which I’m not even sure why because Duke could call Legacy himself. It’s not as if they have any bad beef between them.
But I’m here, and I’m listening.
Honestly, it’s just another distraction from Reese, and I’m good with that at this point. I need all the distractions I can get. I’m far too fucking tempted to hire a private detective to find her, especially since I have her number. As long as she hasn’t changed it, that is.
“What do you want from us?” Legacy asks.
“Iwantto go legit, but there is no way my club is going to go for it at this point. Bond is with me, but it’s basically just us. The rest of the men won’t go, and the original charter isn’t going to just take that shit lying down if they did.”
“Okay…” Legacy murmurs.
He’s fucking confused, and even though I know what Duke is going to ask, it doesn’t make me feel less confused.
“Hell’s Soul is huge. None of the other clubs would be willing to go legit.”
“Are you trying to ask me if you can patch over?” Legacy asks.
Duke shifts in his seat. He lifts his hand and runs his fingers through his hair. I can’t believe he’s going to ask any of this shit. But here he is, asking it, and Legacy looks like his head might actually explode because what he’s going to ask could start a goddamn war.
“I’m asking you if I, Bond, and whoever else wants to can join.”
Legacy stands, his body moving almost involuntarily as he jerks backward, then he plants his fists on his hips. “This could start a goddamn war. And how the fuck are you going to get out of your club alive?” he demands.
Duke shrugs a shoulder, though he doesn’t stand. He stays seated as he looks up at Legacy. He doesn’t seem fazed by the threat of death or war.
“Do you not give a fuck because you’re the president? You think that the other chapters aren’t going to come down here and fuck with you, fuck with us?” I ask.
Slowly, Duke rises, leaning over the conference table slightly and placing his hands on the wood. His gaze searches mine, then shifts to Legacy, who is waiting for a response to my question because he no doubt had the exact same fucking one.
“I know what to expect,” Duke states. “I also know that I am tired. Bond is tired. If Hell’s Souls has a fucking problem with that, they can take it up with me. There will be no blowback on you.”
“How can you ensure this?” Legacy asks.
He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watches Legacy, then flicks his attention from him to me, then back to Legacy. “I can assure you that whatever fucking happens, happens to me and not to the club.”
“Are you saying that you want to join us without protection?”
“I just want to live clean,” Duke states. “I am exhausted and burned out. Taking women to their torture and death isn’t a fun fucking gig. It’s never what I wanted to do, more along the lines of something that was demanded of us. Shit is not changing in the Hell’s Souls, and I am tired of fighting.”
I can tell that Legacy not only believes him but feels bad about it all at the same time. Maybe I should feel some kind of way, but I’m with Legacy. I don’t want a war. We’ve had enough drama, and although going legit does not mean giving away all our guns and ammo, the last thing we want to be is caught up in other people’s bullshit.
