I shook hands with Mansel. He ran the local street gang, the Lifers. We had always had a good relationship with these guys, they dealt in things I could work with, mainly drugs and guns. The Lifers were big in the city, but they weren’t your typical thugs. These guys were high-class criminals, with high-class clients from CEO’s of businesses to politicians. People who did the dirty, but needed to keep it on the down-low and paid out their ass for just that.
“The president patch suits you, Kit,” Mansel said with appreciation. He had dealt with my father for years, but as my father had always known I would take over the club someday. I had always been a part of their meetings, earning Mansel’s trust alongside my father.
“Cheers, man.” I patted him on the back. “Pull your van up in the work bay, I got the parts you need in there.” Having a working garage on the club lot was an added bonus. It meant we had sufficient cover for moving shit in and out. Mansel only ever bought two guys with him to dust off any suspicion, if we were being watched. We packed our shit tight into old car parts just in case, for some reason, they were pulled over when they left.
Mansel and I walked toward the garage as his boys pulled their large van around. A couple of my Brothers followed closely behind but were casual about it.
“Word on the street tells me you got a girl now?” he asked with a smile as we closed the large roller doors and the boys got to work loading the goods.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, man.”
“Where she at? I get to meet this lady that tamed your ass?”
I laughed. “Nah man, she’s up north at Athens. College classes and shit to finish before I manage to tie her down.”
“Athens, huh?”
I raised a brow at him. “Yeah, we got a chapter up there.”
He nodded. “Yeah I know, bro. Just heard some shit on the street the other day about Athens.”
“Anything I should know?” I gritted out. I flicked my head at Tally indicated I wanted him near me to hear what Mansel had to say. My gut told me I would need him.
Mansel scratched at his jaw, his eyes on me and narrowed. I knew he was debating about whether to share information that he had always vowed to his clients would not be released. “This could get me in a lot of trouble, Kit.”
“Come on man, I’m always throwing extra shit in the van without charging you. Throw me something,” I urged.
The guy sighed, checking over his shoulder to make sure his boys were busied. “I have a client a few states over, he deals in a different kind of stuff – Rohypnol and shit. I have my suspicions about what he does with it, but I have a firm don’t ask policy.”
I wanted to grip him and shake him. Selling date rape drugs is never a good thing. There’s a fucking reason they’re called date rape drugs. But that was his business, not mine.
“Some dude associated with him came to me recently, a few weeks back. I gave him the stuff. Said he needed it in a hurry. Had to get back to Athens to deal with some shit.”
My fists clenched and I felt Tally’s hand on my shoulder. “Don’t suppose it was a well-off guy in a suit?”
Mansel laughed. “Brother, all my clients are well-off dudes in suits.”
“Daniel Ashley.”
His eye’s widened. “You know him, huh?”
“I’ll get Optimus on the phone.” Tally rushed off, ripping his phone from his pocket.
“We’re loaded up, boss!” one of Mansel’s boys called across the garage before he jumped in the cab of the van.
“This got something to do with your club?” he asked, his brow now worried. Mansel was a loyal guy, our club and his group had always had an excellent relationship. I knew he’d never do something to jeopardize that.
“The guy wants my girl.”
“Shit, bro. I didn’t know. Fuck!” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Anything I can do?”
“You got a number for this guy?”
He nodded and pulled his cell from his pocket, rattling off the number as I scribbled it onto a scrap piece of paper I found lying around. “It’s legit. He answers the phone with his name, so it’s not a burner.”
“Thanks.”
“Man, you need any help, throw me a line.” He was sincere. Mansel’s laws mirrored our own in ways. One of the majors, you don’t mess with women.