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"Let's pay our tab and go somewhere else," Sarah said.
I turned back around and gritted my teeth. "Yes, let's do that. But I'm not afraid of Logan Peabody. This is the perfect opportunity to confront him."
After we paid our tabs with the waiter who served us, Sarah followed me as I walked directly toward Logan's table.
Losing count of how many mojitos I drank put me in that I-dont-give-a-fuck state of intoxication. The blond woman sitting across from Logan gasped when I suddenly snatched the glass of beer from their table and threw it in his face.
"What the fuck!" Logan shouted as he stood from his chair, as beer dripped from his face and soaked his shirt.
Onlookers around us began to laugh.
I put the empty glass back on the table with a grin and said to the blond as her eyes were wide as saucers. "Don't let Logan Peabody fool you. He took me to our high school prom, got drunk, called me a slut, and since I wouldn't fuck in his car, I left and walked home alone in the pouring rain."
Sarah laughed as we left Alice Comfort Cocktail, and then we locked arms and walked down the street to another bar called King's Ransom and drank some more until the last call.
CHAPTER 12
WRECKER
It was the night of the clubhouse party when I rode my bike over to Heavy and Dani's house, who lived in the same neighborhood as me. Heavy's mother, Sheila, smiled and said hello while she sat on the couch feeding Dani and Heavy's baby. Dani came out of the kitchen to hug me and then kissed me on the cheek. She'd put a few pounds on when she got pregnant, which made her look way better than when she came back into town after seven years.
Heavy gave me the keys to his truck, and I drove it to meet with Nolan in his office at the MGM. Brody handed me a glass of some old Japanese whiskey when Nolan told me that any mention of Reaper Bastards Motorcycle Club was wiped clean from any investigation and databases within the FBI, ATF, and DEA. It was as if the club never existed, along with the Reaper Bastard, called Defcon, who turned rat.
I knew Nolan Reynolds had plenty of wealth. Still, I learned he held great power in the nation's capital because of his deep connections with corrupt politicians. I had no doubt that Nolan's power reached all the way up to the three branches of the US Government.
Nolan walked over to a massive abstract painting on the wall beside the big window overlooking National Harbor. He placed his hands on the frame of the painting, and when he pulled, it became unhinged from the brackets holding it in place. He slid the painting to the right, and I saw a hidden safe inside the wall.
I took a sip from the glass of whiskey when I heard the beeping sounds as Nolan began to press a combination on the number pad to open the safe.
"I spoke with Piotr before you arrived," he said, turning his back from me and Brody.
"The delivery of the cargo to Tennessee was a success, all things considered. Luckily, Whiskey is going to make a full recovery from that car accident."
"And my club brothers, Grizzly, Tusk, and Bagger, made the delivery of those board games to Piotr's destination in Charleston, South Carolina."
"So now you're here to collect that two hundred I promised," Nolan said as he pulled a black duffle bag from the safe, walked over, then placed it on his desk.
He unzipped the bag, and I looked inside at stacks of bills. I grinned and shook Nolan's hand.
He zipped the bag closed and said, "Try to convince Heavy to get on board for another run early next year. Piotr and I have spent alot of time and effort into this business venture, and there's plenty of wealth to go around, including your club."
When I drove the truck with the duffle bag of cash back to Heavy's house, I followed him into his garage, and he shut the door to give us some privacy away from Dani and Sheila. When I handed him the duffle bag, he unzipped it, looked inside, and grinned.
"And there will be much more where that came from if we agree to another run with the Valhalla Heathens next year," I said. "Nolan ensured me that our MC no longer exists to the feds and that rat Defcon never happened. The Reaper Bastards can start over on a clean slate. Sometimes doing business with suits is not a bad thing, Heavy. And working with another MC instead of going to war with them is not so bad either.
Heavy zipped up the bag, then walked over to his gun safe and turned the round dial combination lock to open it. "Tomorrow, you, me, and Tusk will divvy up the cash evenly for the club brothers. Then I'll hold church and do a club vote for another run next year."
I could see a change in how my best friend, Hendrix, wanted to lead as President of the Reaper Bastards MC. The club had a fresh new start with the possibility of doing more good than bad and maybe redeeming ourselves instead of causing violence or bloodshed.
Later, I rode my bike and followed Heavy with Dani on the back of his toward the Reaper Bastards MC clubhouse. The party had already started an hour before when we kicked our stands down and parked beside the other bikes in the parking lot.
A haze of smoke and the smell of burnt rubber mingled with clouds of weed and cigarette smoke as we entered the clubhouse. Grizzly was on his bike in the burnout pit. His front tire was planted against the concrete wall, and he twisted his throttle while holding the brake lever, making the back tire spin, which caused a plume of smoke to surround him.
Some of the dancers from the Dollhouse came to celebrate, including Jasmine, the petite and filthy-mouthed Vietnamese woman. She used Jasmine as her dancer name at the Dollhouse, but I learned that her real name was Linh Pham, and we had a short-term fuck-fest about three months ago. I thought she had a great sense of humor, but other than that, we had absolutely nothing in common. So, after about a month, we both agreed that it was a fun experience and remained friends.
I had a few beers and played a game of pool with Heavy.
"I was thinking about what you said the other day about me and Elle," I said to him.
