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Just thinking about her in that loose apron while she sucked my cock is enough to make me shift in my seat. Then we fucked like rabbits in the shower, and then again in the wee hours of morning, when I woke up to her mouth on my dick.
“Got a hot date?” Riot gives me a chin lift.
It’s unusual for me to have my phone out. I hate the damn things.
“Always,” I sling back at him.
Cash clears his throat. “Jett, how is Rock comin’ along with intel? We know Linc came to a dead end. I guess that’s what happens when you have stolen plates and recruit fuckin’ nomads and deadbeat prospects.”
“Not a lot about Forger, aka Drake,” Jett says. “Seems like he kept a pretty low profile when he got out of the joint. No recordsfor him or his whereabouts. Hasn’t touched his bank accounts, not that there’s anything in them. When Rock did some diggin’, he found a transaction from Razor that came from an offshore account.”
My eyes shift to Cash.
His stepbrother, Razor, was the head of the Devils, and just when you think you know everything about the asshole, something new pops up and leads you in another direction.
“That’s gonna take some doin’,” Priest mutters.
“No shit,” I agree. “Fuckers not only have nine lives. They also have people in the underworld protectin’ ’em.”
Everyone turns to look at me.
“Got somethin’ you wanna share?” Ryder quips.
I give him a chin lift. “Got some bad eggs I still keep in contact with in the boxing world who dabble in the usual illegal shit. Heard that the Devils were spotted in the French Quarter, plannin’ on takin’ over Irish territory. Shit’s gonna be a bloodbath.”
“Irish territory?” Cash shakes his head. “They don’t have the numbers for that.”
I stare at him. “Picture every asshole you can imagine who Forger was in jail with. And I’m talkin’ real fuckin’ pieces of shit. He recruits them, and every other drug-dealin’ criminal in the underworld and suddenly you’ve got a big club on your hands.”
“He’d have the connections,” Hawk agrees. “We know that he’s good at keepin’ a low profile.”
“Indigo thought he was dead,” Harlem says, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. “Fuck knows what he’s got planned or who he’s doin’ it with.”
“Nothin’ from the Irish,” Bronco pipes up. He and Riot were in charge of keeping their ear low to the ground on Irish territory. They’re not gonna be happy when they hear what we know, but we can use that to our advantage.
What is alarming is the fact they think they can waltz into Irish territory and take over their turf.
“Startin’ to think this asshole has more than a fuckin’ death wish,” I grumble. “Rowan won’t stand for any kinda threat like this. Which makes me believe he has numbers, and he’s been protected in the underworld.”
Rowan is head of the Irish mafia, someone that the club has dealt with in the past when both of us needed help.
“Fuckin’ underbelly bullshit,” Ryder snarls. “If they recruited, just like you said, then they very well could be buildin’ an army.”
“Fuck,” Cash mutters.
With a new baby now, everything changes. Women and children can be used and hurt, as we saw with Indigo and Cami.
That can’t happen again.
I won’t let it happen.
“Not gonna lie, it doesn’t look good,” I say, my eyes moving around the room. “But we each have to be extra vigilant. I don’t think it’s enough havin’ just prospects on the case. Can talk to Brew and Haze, make sure they’re on board for some extra security. They’ve got friends in low places. I know Hustle doesn’t want shit to do with the club, but he’d be the best person to talk to.”
“Get on it,” Cash agrees. “More we know the better. Hustle may not wanna join forces, but he respects his brothers enough to be loyal. Pity. The man would’ve made an excellent brother.”
“Glad to have Haze and Brew back,” Harlem agrees. “Know they got tied up in the family business, but they’re still part of the club, even if it is on and off. Happy to have the muscle.”
Brew and Haze were patched in, but drifted for a while from different Rebels, and in doing so, they know a lot of people. They’re good guys to have around in case we need them, andthey know every dirty, low-down asshole from here to the French Quarter.
