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“Prick has the same fucking hand every time we play, I swear!” Beats bangs the table, angry he’s just lost the fat wedge of money we played for.
“Shouldn’t have been so confident,” I tell him as I pick up my phone from the table.
“Suck my dick,” he mumbles.
“Wanna come closer and say that to my face?” I ask him.
“Why, you deaf or something, cunt?”
I throw my head back hysterical at his little outburst. He’s worse than a toddler.
My phone starts vibrating in my hand.
“One more game?” he asks as I look at the screen. No doubt he wants to win back what he just lost.
“No, I’m out. Got to take this.” I wave my phone at him as I stand and leave the room. I head to the bar downstairs as I answer. “Trav?” I say, my heart rate picking up a little. “What’s going on?”
“Just leaving now,” he says.
I hear Mop say something in the background. “Mop alright?”
“Yeah, all good, boss.” I don’t think I’ll ever get used to him calling me that.
I breathe out the breath I was holding. “What was it then?” I ask.
“It’s definitely a threat.”
My heart drops. “What did Vincent say?”
“Let me catch you up when I get back, eh?”
I want to know everything right now, but I know the stubborn mule won’t budge. “Right,” is all I say.
At almost ten, we’re all sat around the table, boxes of takeaway food scattered across the surface. I texted Mads telling her not to wait up for me before Travis and Mop brought us up to speed on the threat; a box of toy fucking guns delivered straight to the Saviours’ front door.
Shit doesn’t get more obvious than that. Somebody knows about our new deal.
Anyonewho passes through our turf, we’ve kept tabs on since we made the deal. We recruited more members; The Joker and Captain to name a few, as have other charters on both sides further north and in the south. It’s a necessity to ensure things run smoothly when moving the drugs and guns.
Fucking, guns.
Why the Saviours are so set on trying to be the biggest player in firearms ceases to amaze me. We source handguns for our own supply, granted, but it’s high-risk fucking stupidity trying to be anything more. I guess it’s how the world fucking rotates now. He with the biggest dick, fucks the hardest.
It’s how Uncle Ronnie likes to run things. Meanwhile back here, I’ve been trying to run things more smoothly. Trying. That is until this package arrived.
“Who is it?” Beats asks, still looking at the images on Travis’ phone. “Got to be someone wanting in on the guns, surely?”
“Who else deals with guns that we know of?” Travis replies.
“No one around here,” Riggs starts, leaning forward resting both arms on the table. “Think about it, Saviours are the first local MC in years to want in on guns. And now there’s—”
“—us,” Mop finishes Riggs’ sentence, his voice barely audible.
Mine and Mop’s eyes meet as a short silence falls. “You think whoever it is knowswe’reinvolved?” I ask, a snide snarl combing my words.
He tilts his head. “If they don’t already, they probably willsoon.”
Fuck.My worst fucking nightmare. The thought of someone watching my family and my club.
