Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Fucker’s always touching me. He knows I hate that shit, but I don’t call him on it because it’s a fucking weakness.
I think about and nod my head. “Good, call Poster Boy and have him head over here to get the body. We need to get to Church. Any voting on his part always swings my way, anyways.”
“That it does,” Grem agrees as he pulls a burner cell from his kutte.
“You owe me fifty,” I smirk at him.
“Goddammit,” Grem grumbles.
“Let’s get this shit started,” I say as I slam my fist down hard enough on the table to be heard over the laughter and voices.
Silence quickly follows and the brothers turn their heads toward me, waiting for me to start.
“Got a call from Rain up in Anchorage last night,” I say, starting off.
Moans come from a few of the guys around the table and I can’t help but smile. “Nothin’ bad, brothers.”
My VP, Whitey, turns to me. He’s Hound’s best friend, and thankfully he agreed to stay on with me. Fuck, if Whitey would have revolted against me taking over, I wouldn’t be in this seat. But he’s here because he knows I need his advice and his influence as much as I need Grem’s. I plan on keepin’ us going for a long time into the future.
Having them at my side ensures that happens.
“You say his name like it ain’t a fuckin’ jinx,” Whitey says with a laugh.
“Not this time. He got us a good shipment of M-4s and Glocks,” I say and look around at the smiles starting to form around the table.
We have guns, each and every one of us is strapped. But having extra firepower is always good.
“Alright, what’s he gonna charge us?” Tazer, our treasurer asks. He’s the one who knows where our finances sit.
“Twenty thousand.” I smirk.
There’s a few low whistles, and I’m just waitin’ for someone to ask why we’re gettin’ charged that much.
After a minute of me smirking, Grem speaks up. “What’s with the grin, asshole?”
I shrug. “He also got us an almost-full container of ammo.
“Wait, does that include the hardware or not?” Whitey asks.
“Twenty-thousand for both,” I say.
“Fuck me,” Grem says before he starts pounding his knuckles on the table.
More of the guys start it up as well before I wave for them to stop.
“The only issue is he’s gonna ship it down to their contacts in Seattle, and now that Rancid’s in jail, we gotta get it from there to here,” I say with a frown.
“Fuckin’ Seattle,” Grem growls and rolls his eyes. “So, I’m guessin’ we’ll need a road guard the whole way?”
“Nah,” I say and shake my head. “I worked that out, too. I was about to call down to Jameson in Louisiana when he called me. Looks like they’re gonna be taking over Rancid’s old supply chains, and they’re willing to do some runnin’ for us.”
I watch the men around me start to digest this information, and I know some of these older guys don’t like change. Fuck, the walkouts when I took over are proof of it.
But we fucking need this.
I lean forward and look at all the men around me. “This change is good for us, brothers. With the fucking Scorpions trying to step on our toes, we need these guns. This is exactly what we’ve been waiting for.”
“All in favor?” Whitey asks.
Everyone raises their hands in short order. I didn’t doubt they would, but it’s good to see my decisions are supported.
After a few more minutes of going through the things we need to talk about, Whitey asks if there’s any other club business.
“Yeah,” Pappy chimes in. “The renters in the Stack’s house have moved out.”
My stomach fucking sours at the mention of that last name, but I make sure to keep my face calm as I nod my head at him to continue.
“Any chance the place is going up for sale?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nope, not that I can tell.”
“Well, with the trash they had livin’ there this time, it’s gonna take a contractor to get that house back up to spec, anyways,” Grem says.
“Yeah, maybe the next renters will be…” I say, trailing off, and don’t bother to finish.
The guys around me know the story with her house and her falling off the face of the earth. No need to drag my fucking brain through it again.
“Anything else for the table?” Whitey asks.
Shaking my head, I say, “Church is done, let’s get a drink.”
I need a strong fucking bottle of whiskey and a piece of ass to get my damn head straight.
Chapter Six
Allie
I’ve made good time on our drive, cutting down what should have taken us over thirteen hours down to twelve.
But ever since we crossed the Kentucky state line, my head has been fucking with me.
I don’t know if it’s because of a lack of sleep, or because of how hard I’ve been pushing my body, but as I take in the rolling green hills, there’s this strong sense of déjà vu I just can’t shake.