Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“Correct. We can deduct a reduced rent from the amount the club will owe him. And once we finish paying him back, we can increase the rent to fair market value. All in favor of that?” Jamison asked.
Again, everyone was good with that proposal.
“Okay, so who’s going to be the one to approach him?” Jamison asked, glancing around the table.
“I’m thinking it should be you, prez,” Rez suggested, “since you’re his supervisor at work, too.”
Jamison muttered, “It was Fletch’s idea.”
All eyes turned to him. “I’ll do it. But I’ll wait until after the run. Jamison, it might be a good idea for you to be with me when I talk to him about it.”
“I’m okay with that. After Bella heads home, though.”
“She’s here for the run?” Rez asked.
“Yeah. She should be. She texted me an hour ago and said she dropped the kids off at my parents and was on the way. She’s probably out there shooting the shit in the common area with Monty and North’s ol’ lady.”
“Nash coming?” Fletch asked Cross.
“He’s on tour right now.”
Cross’s husband, Nash, was the drummer and lead singer of the band Dirty Deeds. Him being on tour a lot left Cross home alone with their two thirteen-year-old adopted kids.
They had their hands full with those twins. Unwanted because they weren’t infants, they spent years of hell passed around in the foster care system. Because of that, they tended to act out. A lot.
He had no idea how Cross dealt with them on his own when Nash was gone for days or weeks at a time. Neither sets of grandparents were involved because they were either deceased or out of the picture due to Cross and Nash’s sexual orientation.
Since neither Cross or Nash had it easy as kids themselves, they figured they’d have a better handle than most on helping the twins. Only they might have thought raising them to be productive citizens of society would be a lot easier than it was turning out to be. They were learning the hard way that it wasn’t. But both were determined to give those kids the best life they could.
Fletch had nothing but admiration for what they were doing, but he wouldn’t want to be in their shoes.
It also had to put a strain on their relationship.
Jamison slammed the gavel on the table.
“That means we’re adjourned,” Finn yelled and pushed to his feet. “Time to ride, fuckers!”
A few fists pounded on the table in agreement, including Fletch’s.
This might be the last run for a while wearing his own club’s colors. He would enjoy every fucking second it lasted.
Chapter Six
“If we play our cards right, this might be your new temporary home, brother. Make sure to take a good look around. Get comfy.” With a snort, Crew slapped Fletch on the back as Jamison yanked open the steel door.
The door from the rear lot into the Dirty Angels’ church had a sign hanging over it that claimed Down & Dirty 'til Dead.
Before any of them had a chance to move farther inside, two young bikers created a human blockade as they stood with their arms crossed over their chests and boots spread wide. Prospects from what it looked like. Fletch’s gaze narrowed on the patches on their cuts.
Yep. Just what he thought.
The unwelcoming committee each had two rectangular patches on the front that declared them “prospects” with the names of Nugget and Booger.
Jesus Christ. Someone had fun coming up with those stupid-assed names for their recruits.
Crew hooked a thumb at them and announced, “These two still-wet-behind-the-ears, tiny-dicked little boys think they can stop us,” on a laugh.
When one of them began to reach into his cut, that laughter abruptly stopped and all of them went solid.
“You reach inside your cut, that will be the last thing you do,” Crew warned him with a growl.
“We should’ve met them on neutral ground,” Cross said, not caring that the prospects could hear him.
“They refused,” Jamison reminded him, also acting like the prospects didn’t each have two ears. “This was the only place they’d agree to meet.”
“They think these two guard puppies will intimidate us,” Finn said, making sure the two prospects heard him.
“Well then, that’s their first mistake,” Crew said. “And probably won’t be their last.”
Fletch was trying his damnedest to keep his trap shut since he was the one who would need to blend in with the club. He didn’t want to start off by making enemies in the MC. That would only make his job more difficult.
“They’re waitin’ on you,” the one named Booger announced with a scowl, trying to look intimidating.
“No shit,” Fletch responded under his breath.
Nugget picked up from there. “No wanderin’ around. No touchin’ shit. We’ll escort you to the meetin’ room and when you’re done, straight back out.”
With a grin, Finn smacked Fletch’s arm. “Escorted just like we’re fucking royalty. Can’t get any better than that!”