Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“But they can’t hang out there every night she works,” Crew told them. “That would start to look suspicious. The Angels also have their own bar. Not only the Iron Horse Roadhouse but their own private bar in their clubhouse. There’s really no reason for Ghost and Kitten to hang at Hawg Wild.”
“There’s a damn good reason,” Decker told him. “Ghost has been trying to patch over to the Demons. Wouldn’t he rather hang out with the club he wants to join rather than the club he wants to leave?”
That explanation could work.
“Oooooor… You could go in yourself, too. Just to observe and settle your worry.” Rez added a little smart-ass snort on the end of that.
“Not sure if I could pull it off. Plus, we don’t have any club colors for me to wear besides our own. And of course, that shit won’t fly.”
“You’ll go flying when they throw your ass out,” Reynolds said.
“If I walk into that bar wearing BAMC colors, I doubt I’ll only get tossed. I might not make it out alive.”
But, damn, they were giving him some decent options. Cabrera told the Demons she had an ol’ man named Throttle. A biker not affiliated with any club. Once again, he had to give her credit. That meant he could go there without wearing colors at all and it wouldn’t look suspicious.
He could easily go undercover as Throttle and do a surprise visit at Hawg Wild with the excuse of checking on his ol’ lady. That would establish his fake persona as possessive and protective of his woman. He could also have a little discussion with the manager and let the man know that he wasn’t happy about his woman coming home with bruises.
He was liking this idea more and more by the second.
However, he knew Cabrera would hate it. She wouldn’t be thrilled about him checking up on her.
“I mean… you could always pull her from the assignment if it’s giving you heartburn,” Decker suggested, watching him closely.
“He could,” Finn said, “but if we can prove that they’re dealing from that location, as well as using it to wash dirty money, the feds could add that business to the seizure list.”
“The more businesses they lose and the more of their members who end up behind bars, the sooner the Deadly Demons MC will come to an end,” Rez said. “Adiós, pendejos.”
“Let’s fucking hope there won’t be enough of them skating charges,” Torres grumbled.
“Or getting short sentences so they can rebuild as soon as they’re released,” Reynolds added.
Decker put in his two cents next. “I have no doubt they’ll rebuild. But when they do, they’ll still be on the feds’ radar. If they were smart, they’d stick to being asshole bikers and not mules or drug suppliers.”
Crew responded with, “But they’re far from smart and if they lose their drug connections, those dumbasses might get into running guns or sex-trafficking instead. A criminal organization like theirs will always find an easy way to make a lot of money.”
“Easy money doesn’t end up being so easy when you get caught,” Finn stated.
“Right and if they get into that other shit, the feds might form another task force to crush them all over again,” Crew said. “Whether it be the FBI or ATF.”
Torres muttered, “It’s an endless fucking cycle.”
“A cycle that needs to be broken,” Crew concluded on a sigh. “All right, I have some calls to make. If you need me, I’ll be downstairs.”
Fletch’s voice filled Crew’s ear. “Well, hell, I was just about to call you, Motley Crew. What’s up?”
The more he thought about those bruises… What was up was his blood pressure. “Need a favor.”
“Can it wait until I tell you my news first?”
“Is it good news?” He needed some about now.
“Good enough that you might bust a nut over it,” Fletch warned.
“Hold on. Let me grab a sock to catch it in.” With his cell phone to his ear, Crew sank onto one of the couches in the BAMC’s church and propped his boots up on the center table. “Okay, I’m ready. Go.”
“Brace yourself. When you come, it’ll explode like a volcano.”
“Just tell me.”
Fletch chuckled and after a few seconds of silence, most likely to ramp up anticipation, he announced, “Viper’s letting me patch over.”
Crew shot up straight, plunking his boots back on the floor. “What?”
“Yeah. Surprised the hell out of me, too. I was at the point where I never thought it would happen.”
“You and me both, brother. Holy shit!” This was damn good news. That meant they’d have someone planted inside the outlaw MC. Cameras and wire taps only went so far. “When?”
“He said as soon as possible. But as you know, it’s not like they keep a schedule or anything. They do shit when they do shit.”
“Did his offer seem suspicious?”
“No. My guess is he’s thinking about numbers. Patching me over means one more member in his pocket and one less for the Angels, in case they get a hair up their ass and try to hone in on the DAMC’s territory. Plus, I’ve been doing business with them long enough now that they trust me. Well, at least as much as they’d trust anyone.”