Every other man at this table had been just fine with that, and they’d all made Cooper feel like an asshole for raising the question. Even Eight Ball hadn’t had a problem—though at least Eight had been surprised and hadn’t made Coop feel shitty for raising the question.
He honestly didn’t care who Reed fucked; he had no problem with gay people, whatever stripe of the rainbow they claimed. He didn’t get it, but he also didn’t get chicks who liked that ‘pumpkin spice latte’ swill or guys who bought Kawasaki Ninjas and called themselves bikers. Or why the fuck anybody would willingly wear a tie. He didn’t think any of those people were any more deviant than anybody else, so really, he was fine with whoever Reed liked to fuck. None of his business.
The thing he’d had a problem with had to do with the clubhouse. Clubhouse parties always got wild, there was always all kinds of sex happening in all kinds of places toward the end. That was the whole point—drinking and fucking. So sue him for needing a minute to get his head around the notion that there might be dicks going into assholes in the middle of the party room.
However. It wasn’t any weirder than any of the other places dicks got put at Bulls’ parties—probably including assholes, actually. Therefore, it made no material difference who Reed might choose to put it to in the party room. It had just taken Cooper a little bit longer than apparently everybody else to get there.
That was one of his issues, right? Needing extra time to see things from a different angle. He knew that. He also knew it made him come off like an asshole sometimes.
Anyway, Cooper didn’t have a problem. Reed was alright, and he could fuck whoever he wanted to fuck, wherever he wanted to fuck them, as long as they wanted to get fucked. Just like any Bull.
“We clear?” he asked Kai before anything else. Kai always did a bug check, looking for listening devices, before they started to talk business. It was probably early to be worried about that, but the charter was on local law’s radar, and the shooting at the Cadence last fall had made everybody twitchy. Better safe than sorry, and good to get in the habit of caution right away.
Kai nodded. “Clear and quiet.”
“Okay,” Cooper said. “Let’s get started.” Among the array of gifts Tulsa had brought when they’d buried Gargoyle and birthed this new charter was a gavel and the thing you hit with it, but that was up in the office. He’d always hated the officiousness of a gavel. Reminded him too much of courthouses and laws and shit like that. He kept the Post-It in his kutte just in case he needed it, but he’d prefer not to be seen using it.
“We got a few things to go over, so let’s stay focused and get through the boring shit without a bunch of whining. Reed.”
“It’s dues day, and we’re two short. Geno? Kai?”
Kai pulled a white envelope from his kutte and pushed it across the table.
“Thank you kindly,” Reed said and pulled it the rest of the way to him. He had a leather folder he always brought to church, and he slipped that envelope in a pocket without opening it or counting it.
“I can get you by Friday,” Geno said.
“That’s your second time paying late, Geno,” Ben said quietly. “Don’t let it be a habit.”
“It won’t. Just ... shit’s tight right now.”
The table went quiet. Cooper knew they were waiting for him to say something. “Yeah, shit’s tight for us all. Everybody else is making their dues on time, though, G. It keeps up, we’re gonna have a problem.” Hating the ‘bad cop’ role, he ended with a grin. “But I got news that’ll loosen shit up. Finish up, Reed.”
Reed pulled a printed page from his folder. “Bills are paid. Coffers are starting to get light. Only got about three more months of keeping the lights on if we don’t start making deposits soon. We’ve been all outgo and no income since the last run, when the Dragons tried to fuck us, and the Volkovs levied a nuisance fee on that, so ... yeah. We need to get RockSteady open, and we need another run.” He looked at Coop. “And I hear that’s on the agenda today?”
Cooper grinned. “Nice setup, thanks. Yeah. Talked to Eight today. We got the next run—three weeks. The Tulsa crew will roll in on a Friday night, and we’re due in BC late Sunday. It’s a big ship, too, and it’s coming in on a special truck—full-size Mack. We won’t unload—the truck is going all the way to the buyer. Anybody here got their CDL? If not, we’re gonna need to make one up and get somebody at this table familiar with operating a Mack truck.”
“I drove a truck in the Army,” Lonnie said. “My CDL’s long expired, and I haven’t been in one in about twenty-five years. Wouldn’t mind getting a chance for a quick refresher, but I can handle it.”
Kai looked at Lonnie. “I can make you a license, Unc. It’ll pass any inspection.”
Lonnie grinned. “I assumed.”
“What the fuck’s the cargo if they’re moving it in a truck like that?” Geno asked.
“Ordnance,” Ben said. Cooper had briefed him on his talk with Eight.
“Ordnance,” Geno repeated. “You mean like grenade launchers?”
“Grenade launchers, rocket launchers, heavy ammo, sniper rifles. Full-on military shit,” Cooper answered. “A lot of it. Eight says this ship is worth north of two mil.”
“Jesus,” Reed muttered. “Are we arming a war?”
Cooper focused on Reed like a laser. “Do not ever ask that question again. Not in here, not anywhere in the clubhouse. Ever.”
Reed stared at him, surprised but not cowed. Cooper supposed Reed wasn’t used to him being serious or threatening. But that question waswayout of bounds.
Ben answered Reed’s question. “We’re not arming anybody. We’re moving product from seller to buyer. End of. This is the work, son. The Bulls have been workin’ with the Volkovs a long time.”