Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
So I ran the idea by the guys.
“Yeah, we can hit it up, but we have to wait until after ten,” Crow said.
“Why’s that?”
“Remember we told you about those other brothers of ours?”
“The ones who run us product from the south?” I asked.
“Yeah. They are coming up. Should be here around eight. That gives them some time to unload, eat, and then head out with us.”
“Alright sounds good,” I agreed. If she was working, she would be there until after two a.m. anyway.
Still, the wait was almost intolerable as I showered and changed and then watched the clock tick by, swearing each minute got slower than the last.
We could hear the crunch of tires pulling into the lot at about seven-forty that night, but no one moved to get up and go outside to greet the new brothers, so I kept my spot, leaning against the island, drinking coffee.
About two minutes later, the door burst open, and there they were.
The twins.
Our missing brothers.
“Hey, long time,” Slash said, walking forward and giving them each a shake and shoulder slap. “Gotta do that introduction shit. Guys, this is our new prospect, Judge. Judge, this is Riff and Raff.”
“As in, who let in the…?” I asked, smirking.
“Exactly that,” Riff said.
They weren’t quite identical twins, but were pretty damn close. Both were tall and strongly built with square jaws, dark eyes, and black hair.
Where Riff had a bit of “cultured stubble” on his jaw that wasn’t quite a beard, but not just scruff, Raff was clean shaven. But where Riff had only one tattoo sleeve, Raff was covered in ink down both arms and up his neck.
“Judge, how was prison?” Raff asked, moving forward, extending a hand for a quick shake.
“The food sucked.”
“Well, you lucked out joining up here. Got Detroit all to yourself up here,” he said, and his accent was just a little more clear the more he spoke.
Definitely southern, but I didn’t know enough about accents to place the state.
“We were thinking of heading to The Bog after we eat,” Sway told them.
“Well, you know I have to go catch up with my girl,” Raff said, smirking.
I stiffened at that.
I wasn’t imagining that Slash did as well.
Both of us.
Wanting chicks we couldn’t have.
What a fucking pair we were.
“He’s talking about my cousin,” Detroit said, and if I wasn’t completely mistaken, he gave both Slash and I a head shake like he knew exactly what we were thinking.
“Your cousin?” I repeated, not remembering having seen her there before. Then again, I hadn’t really been there much.
“Her name is Lula, and she’s rejected this fucker more times than I can count. He’s a glutton for punishment,” Detroit said in a way that said he was both protective of his cousin, but also didn’t entirely disapprove of his club brother.
“She likes to play hard to get,” Raff said, clucking his tongue. “But her eyes say she wants to have my babies.”
“At least her brain cells would balance out your utter lack of them,” Detroit teased, getting a smirk out of Raff as he went for the coffee pot.
“Does Lula tend bar there too?” I asked.
“Nah. Lula is the manager, for lack of a better description,” Detroit said. “She handles… the books,” he added, and the way he paused made me think that he meant she cooked the books to fold in some of the Murphys illegally-obtained money.
Now the real question was… did Lula only work for the Murphys, or was she a money launderer for other organizations? Maybe even ours?
I didn’t feel like I was in the position to ask yet, though.
Pretty quickly, the conversation moved more toward work shit, and Slash made me go out to the twins’ car and unload all the guns they’d brought up with them. Which weren’t just in duffles, but stashed inside door panels and in hidden compartments built under the back seats and under the trunk floor.
So by the time I was done, not only had they gotten a chance to shower and change, but everyone had eaten too.
I didn’t care, though.
The food would be there later.
I was all too ready to go when they said they were going to head into town.
“We’re walking?” I asked when no one went toward their bikes.
“No,” Slash said, snorting. “You’re the DD,” he said, tossing me the keys to the SUV. Yet another perk of being the prospect.”
And just like that, the seven of us crushed into the SUV and headed into town.
I’d never really experienced anything akin to anxiety before in my life, but there was no denying the skittering of my pulse, the strange tightness in my chest, the way I almost felt fucking lightheaded as I parked the SUV and climbed out with everyone else.
“Ah come on, man,” Raff said, punching my shoulder. “It’s not so bad. I had to be the DD before too.”