Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 132031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“Shouldn’t I be moving into one of Dev’s apartments then?” Shanna asked. “It’ll make me appear as if I’ve had a change in attitude. More accepting of my brother, not so put off by the club’s values.”
“Good idea. Then you and Joe will be on-site to assist Cash if anything arises. We’ve secured two of the four apartments in your brother’s building through the shell company set up to look like they employ Cash. That leaves one additional unit left vacant. Talk to your brother. Get him to lease that space to you. That’s the easiest way to get that done,” Malik instructed and moved the laser pointer back to a slide on the screen.
Joe opened his laptop, repositioning it on the table to share with Cash the PowerPoint presentation Malik currently worked from.
The blessed numbness Cash associated with his assignments returned. His mind went clear as he focused on the newest details.
He could do this. Shanna had just surprised him. Nothing more.
Chapter 5
The unrelenting heat slowly roasted Dev from the outside in. The area needed a fucking cold front to plow through and cool this bitch down. Led Zeppelin jammed on the Bluetooth speakers inside his helmet. Music being the only reason he ever voluntarily wore a dome when he rode. The volume pushed past the recommended capacity as the song thumped through his head and vibrated against the helmet.
Dev navigated the pothole riddled pavement known as Red Bird Lane. The bike bounced and swayed on a road that had seen better days twenty years ago.
He took a left turn, edging by the largest pothole on the street, heading into the Red Bird Lumber Yard. He idled his sled at the secured gated entrance as he took the helmet off, shook out his sweat-dampened hair and stared at the motion-sensing camera angled toward the entrance.
The lock unlatched and the gate crept open.
Dev secured the helmet on the bike and drove through the maze of freshly cut and stacked lumber. Each pile had been intentionally stacked to be taller than the warehouse built in the dead center of the property owned by the Disciples. One of the most lucrative businesses in their commercial portfolio. With the demand and price of wood increasing by the day, Red Bird Lumber Yard washed more cash than the rest of their businesses combined.
His old man had taught him decades ago that operating on the older, poorer side of town allowed the club to hide in plain sight. Nobody cared about the less fortunate. The general public wore blinders. Easier to pretend they didn’t exist than try to do anything to truly help.
The police barely patrolled the area, and when they did, it happened on a regular timetable. The Disciples set the patrol schedule. The officers were on the payroll, rewarded in cash to keep their eyes forward and ears closed.
What couldn’t be seen from outside the fence was the actual warehouse building in the center of the property. Also hidden were the armed security guards ready to act when necessary. All were members in some way or another of the Disciples, and all were true-blue Texans with anarchy in their souls—the ideal candidate for their brotherhood.
His old man banked on their nonconforming natures, slowly building a small army behind these gates.
He tipped his head at Tank, a long-standing patched brother and head of security for the property, as he passed by a larger pile of lumber. Tank’s grin split big. His front two teeth were missing but Dev guessed no one would ever know. The guy never smiled and barely spoke unless barking out an order. Tank was known as the groundskeeper of this property. One of the many father figures who had helped raise him into the man he was today.
An overhead door cranked open on his approach. He could hear the sounds of an electric saw cutting through lumber in the distance.
He pulled into the darkened building. He brought his Harley to a stop and cut the engine as the big overhead door closed shut behind him. The air conditioner blasted cool air into the large, almost empty space, sending a light chill over Dev as he got off the bike.
Dev ran his fingers through his damp hair, waiting for his eyesight to adjust to the dimmer interior after such a bright ride over. High heels clicked on the polished concrete slab. The sound surprised him. The club whores weren’t allowed on the premises. Even his mother didn’t venture in this direction. These were sacred grounds.
The smell of fresh liquor, skunk weed, and strong floral perfume hit at the same time. He knew exactly who approached. Daphne.
“Your daddy told me to come get you,” she said and appeared in the slash of sunlight several feet away. At barely eighteen, she was technically legal, but too young to be a part of this world as far as Dev was concerned. But she’d already been inducted into the circle of women, the club whores, who were taken care of by the club…so long as they took care of the patched members whenever they wanted.