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Talon
Talon leaned back in his chair and propped booted feet on the desk in front of him.
Gate looked up from the papers strewn across his desk and pointed to the little gold name plate. GATOR TREMAINE, PRESIDENT, IRON DRAGONS MC. “A little respect?”
Talon smirked, “How long we been riding together?”
Gate went back to his study of bank documents. “Good point. You got pick up tonight, yeah?”
“Always do,” he agreed.
“Never understood why you took the hookers when you had your pick of rackets.”
Talon shrugged, “Pussy’s an honest trade. And we got grade A snatch.”
Gate dropped his pen and studied me. “You’re the only biker I know with a stable of whores for groupies.”
“I respect ‘em. Don’t try to fuck ‘em.”
“Always business with you.”
Talon stood. “You know how to keep a woman from leading you around by your dick?”
“How?” Gate asked.
“Don’t let her,” he answered.
Gate laughed and nodded toward his desk. “Ice cold. You’d be better at this shit than me.”
“My job to have your back. Never wanted the gavel.”
Gate sighed. “I know, VP.”
“Let me know when you want me to take Lucky on a run. Get his feet wet.”
Gate shook his head, “Shit, he’d be too busy trying to get his dick wet. That boy might be my son, but he acts like he never gets laid. Which we both know is a lie. Keep him away from the hookers.”
Now, it was Talon’s turn to laugh. “Gotcha.”
“Got a son who acts like a whore.”
“And a daughter who looks like an angel.”
“You’re old enough to be her fucking father. Don’t make me gut you.”
“Just speaking the truth, brother. She’s the one you better watch.”
Gate rubbed a hand across his eyes. “Fuck, I know. It’s the quiet ones you gotta look out for.”
Talon chuckled and turned for the door, “Gonna pick up from Rosie, make a count, and then circle back here.”
Gate continued, “I’m gonna be out. Get a receipt from Cash and leave everything in the safe.”
“Later, boss.”
“Talon,” Gate called out, stopping the man at the door.
