9
I dropped Ciara off with one of the old ladies. I get them to keep her so I can run the club the right way. I’m sitting at the head of the table when Sully walks in. I don’t need to look up to know he’s got that fucking look.
“Don’t. I know I should have talked to her. I tried. When she pretty much said this life wasn’t for her, I said bye. Even started walking away. What do you want me to do? Her pussy is like heroin, and I’m the fucking needle. I put the ball in her court. I’ve got the prospect keeping an eye on her, and it will stay that way until she tells me she's done. When the Doc doesn’t want to ride me like a Goddamn bull, and she tells me that to my fucking face.”
Sully grabs a chair, turning it backward to sit. It’s his let’s wrap move. At forty-five, he has been more of a fatherly figure since my dad died than my Uncle Calen ever could have been. “Look, maybe there should have been more disclosure, but you will have to deal with your feelings. Having this in your head is a distraction you can’t afford. Not right now. I didn’t come in here to lecture you about a woman you have it hot for. I came to tell you the bikes are all packed up and that Dante called to verify the pickup. It’s time we got a move on.” He sets my backup .22 on the table. “Remember to keep it close, just in case.”
“Is Moby following in the van?” I should fucking know this shit, but since I took over, between Ciara and now the fucking Doc, my life has gone belly up. I stand, popping my muscles before I have to be on the bike for hours. “Ains is keeping Ciara tonight.”
“Was that a question or a statement?” Sully stands. “You should probably know the answer to that one.”
“No, I know. I called her last night and made sure she could stay at my place. Otto gets out next week. We have to deal with that shit too.” Too much going on at the same fucking time. “Let’s just go and get this shit over. I’d like to be back in time for the appointment tomorrow.”
Sully doesn’t say anything. Instead just follows me out, shutting and locking the doors behind him. There are only a few of us going on this ride. We have protection, but we also don’t want to make it so fucking obvious.
We’ve got to pick up the shipment and get it over to the warehouse to cut and mix for distribution. It’s never fun to do a drug run, but I also can’t get us out of it because it’s good fucking money. Same with the guns. Pussy is legit, but it doesn’t bring quite enough to pay everyone’s bills. It’s just the way life goes. Nothing we can do about it. Might as well nut up and get the fuck over it. It’s not like I chose this life. I was fucking born into it. It’s all I fucking know.
We stop for gas about midway, so I check my phone. Ainsley picked up my girl, and they’re heading home after picking up groceries. Apparently, Ains is making our meals for the week. Which is fine. She's a damn fine cook. If she hadn’t found Otto, we’d probably have gotten hitched. She’s a great girl, but we want different things. She needed a daddy, and I wasn’t looking to adopt.
“Hey Em, any word on the house for Otto and Ainsley? He can’t stay at the compound when he gets out.”
She snorts. “We’ve been lookin’, but realtors don’t like cash, it would seem. They all wanna do background checks and shit.”
“Did you try to double their fee?” For fucks sake. It shouldn’t be this fucking hard to find a place. “Have you tapped our clean list?”
“It ain’t so clean anymore. It seems that Leigh broad was banging half the municipal branch.” She shrugs.
“Fuck. What about Del’s friends? The ones she made that owe her?”
When my load gets to be too much, Emlyn and Monroe are supposed to pick up the slack, and I figured Em would be better than my best friend. Apparently, I was fucking wrong. Seems I'll have to figure it out on my own. I did this shit with no issues, so what the fuck is Em's problem?
We hop on the bikes to get back on the road. Em doesn’t ride bitch for anyone, so she’s right up here alongside me. I just need to get this shit over with and go the fuck home to my little girl. I never realized how good being a daddy would be. I wasn’t sure if it was what I wanted until the day she called me Da. Now I couldn’t imagine my life without her.
In today’s episode of I’m a cartel pansy-ass with a small dick, we have your run-of-the-mill bullshit. Coke, heroin, pills, shrooms, and some GHB for cutting. Each shipment is well concealed. This month it’s African Jugs. I’m not sure how long these jackasses have been here, but the tension is soaring high. I catch Sully’s and then Lachlan’s eye before covertly rising my brow to see if they feel what I can. We’re the only ones in the club that seem to read a situation and people with any accuracy. Sully shifts his weight to the left, making everyone perk their ears.
“Garcia, how was the trip?” I shake the man’s hand.
“Oh, you know the same shit.” There’s a slight wobble to his voice and a tremble in his grip. Redflag number two.
“Did it all make it in one piece?” I question.
“Yeah, it’s in the warehouse.”
I turn my head to look at Em and Crux. My head nod says, “Go check it.”
“Do we really need to do this every time? I’d like to get out earlier than usual.” Garcia snipes.
“It’s the name of the game.” As Em and Crux head into the shipping crate, the men standing here straighten and eyes avert or dance with uneasiness.
Red flag number th-
“Saint!” Em calls in a not-so-pleasant way.
Well fuck.
Before I can say anything, Garcia pulls a knife and is slicing through the air, straight toward me.
“You need to think about this. Alvarez isn’t gonna let it slide.” Holding my hands up, I signal them to hang back. I want to settle this if I can. “Think of it this way you hurt me. Monroe over there is going to put a bullet between your eyes. Sullivan and Drysten will kill the rest of your men before they can get a shot off. And Lachlan there? He's already figured out how to box your asses in. There's nowhere to go.”