Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Menace was the club’s computer hacker. He was in charge of handling all our security needs at both our strip clubs and the clubhouse. The guy had a real knack for unearthing shit that no one else could, and I had no doubt if there was something to be found on our security feed, he would find it.
The sound of sirens drawing closer brought an immediate end to our conversation. Widow grumbled in annoyance, then turned to me. “Country and I will deal with the cops. You call Viper and let him know what’s going down.”
“And what exactly am I supposed to tell him?” I wasn’t looking forward to talking to Viper. Our president had high expectations and would have questions about what had happened—questions I couldn’t begin to answer. I flung my hand down the hallway. “’Cause I got no fucking clue what the fuck happened. None of us do.”
“Tell him that half our goddamn strip club has just been blown to shit, and we need him to get his ass over here.” Before he and Country headed out of the room, Widow shook his head and grumbled, “Yeah, tell him that.”
Once they were gone, I did as I was told and pulled out my burner to call Viper. I dialed his number, and it had barely started ringing when he answered, “What the fuck is going on over there?”
“No idea, Prez. There’s been some kind of explosion.”
“Yeah, Menace and I just saw it on the security cameras,” Viper replied, his voice sounding troubled. “Any idea what caused it?”
“We’re still trying to figure that out.” Dread washed over me as I added, “The cops just showed.”
“Yeah, I didn’t figure it’d take ‘em long,” he answered, annoyed. “We’ll be there in five.”
“And the cops?”
“Just keep ’em busy until we get there.”
“We’ll do what we can.”
By the time I hung up with Viper, Widow and Country were escorting several cops and three firefighters through the front door. The mere sight of them walking into our bar set me on edge.
There was no love lost between the brothers and our city’s law enforcement. They didn’t trust us, and we sure as hell didn’t trust them. They were in the game of looking for someone to blame for the crimes that took place in our beloved city, and because of our notorious reputation, they considered us an easy target.
It didn’t help matters that the officers were whispering back and forth, making underhanded, snide comments as they made their way through the main bar. They were trying to put on a show that they were better than us and disapproved of our line of work.
But I knew better.
I’d seen one or more of them at the club, and when they were out of uniform, they partied with the best of them. When they got closer, I stepped forward, stopping them in their path. I put on a big, fake smile as I said, “Hey there, Tate. I almost didn’t recognize you in that uniform. How you making it tonight?”
He looked a bit taken back as he answered, “I’m good. Just trying to get through the night.”
“I know the feeling.”
He and his buddies walked around me and continued towards the back without another word. The firefighters followed with their extinguishers in hand, and as soon as they reached the site of the explosion, they started checking to make sure there were no residual flames.
While the firemen were doing their thing, Officer Tate walked over to Country and asked, “You boys got any casualties or any other injuries we need to know about?”
“Nope, no casualties and just minor cuts and scratches.”
“That’s good.”
His partner was a short, muscled-up dude and looked like a real prick as he inched closer for a better view of the damage. He stepped over a couple of broken two-by-fours as he asked, “Any idea what caused the explosion?”
“No clue,” Widow answered.
The asshole tilted his head back and took a couple of deep sniffs, then asked, “You had any issues with gas leaks?”
“Not that we’re aware of.”
“Hmmm.” He cocked his head to the side, surveying the damage a little more intently, then reached into his back pocket for his small notepad. He started writing and asked, “What about any enemies we might need to know about?”
“None that come to mind.”
“Is that right?” Tate’s partner glanced back over at the massive hole in the wall and scoffed, “So, this was just some random attack?”
I don’t know what it was about that cop, but he rubbed me the wrong way, and I couldn’t stop myself from growling, “Not sure if I’d go so far as to say this was an attack.”
“You got a pretty big fucking hole in your wall for it not to be an attack.” He shrugged with a smug look on his face. “Or maybe you’ve just got a case of bad wiring. Won’t know until the fire marshal finishes his investigation.”