Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
The two of them circled each other like prizefighters. My loud sigh broke that shit up and ma walked around the table to kiss my cheek goodbye while the kid watched like she was making sure the threat left.
“Go to bed kid.”
“I’m not a kid, stop calling me that.” She did one of those posing things little girls always do when they’re trying to prove they’re a grown woman. Tits thrust forward, hip cocked.
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.” She had that damn hand on her hip again.
“You ever been fucked Ms. Eighteen?” Her eyes opened wide and she took a step back, good she got it.
“I didn’t think so. Now take your prissy ass back down the hall and leave grown men alone.” She stumbled her miserable ass down the hall and slammed the door. Fucking pain.
I went back to what I was doing before the two of them interrupted me with their shit.
Chapter 6
STONE
***
I sat in the dark after making sure the house was secure. I could go for a stiff drink myself after the evening I’d had but I needed a clear head to deal with this shit.
When the news first broke that her dad had been murdered I didn’t bat a fucking lash. I knew there would be some sort of shakeup but I was biding my time, waiting for the right moment. Couldn’t seem too interested or shit would go south.
Ma thinks that I should be in charge over there now that the old man was gone because of the part my dad played in keeping it together back in the day. She’s always believed it and wasn’t quiet about that shit either.
I wasn’t going anywhere near that shit. Instead I’m just waiting for the dust to settle, but to the outside world I was keeping to my usual stance. I didn’t give a fuck about the Jokers and what happened to them. It was a stance I’d taken since childhood and it stuck. No one would ever guess anything different and that was just the way I wanted it.
I knew the story well. It was burned into my psyche since birth. Ma wasn’t the only one who believed that I should’ve been Drexel’s heir. Older folks, who’d lived in the town all their lives, people who had known my dad way back when thought so too.
According to them, the club had suffered many setbacks over the years. From some of the members getting arrested, and the FBI dismantling it for a smorgasbord of crime. The old guard had all been thrown in jail, whatever money had been there was long gone and all that was left was an old building with a marquee out front as a reminder of what once was.
Dad and Drexel had been wannabe’s as kids and had had the bright idea of bringing it back to life. Dad like I said was the brains, his vision was to go in the complete opposite direction from where the club had been before it was destroyed. He’d borrowed money from his own dad to open up the place again.
They’d had about ten members that first year, which dad used his business savvy to turn into hundreds the following year. He’d turned part of the building into a bar then he’d started the Midwest rallies, which brought clubs from all over the country to our neck of the woods once a year. It was good for the local businesses, which showed their appreciation by sponsoring the MC in a lot of ventures that the old club had never been interested in.
By the time of his death he’d started an online business selling everything from decals to colors. Ma had been a big help. She’d got some of the sheep together and they’d started making clothes with logos and anything else that anyone fascinated with the life would want to own.
It was the success of that business that had caused the rift between the two best friends. Drexel saw that dad was taking the club in a whole other direction where brains were needed more than brawn. And whether out of fear or jealousy, he’d supposedly put a bullet in the back of my dad’s head one night when they were out on a run.
No one believed his story that they were attacked, but there was no one to refute his word and since he too had been shot in the leg, there was always that shadow of doubt. Years later it was revealed that Sanchez’s dad had helped with the set up and Drexel had promised his son the MC when he died. If that were true then it looked like he was planning to crawfish on that deal as well. Fucking bastard.
I got up from the chair and walked slowly over to the window, making sure not to cast a shadow. Someone was out there. I hadn’t seen them as much as sensed them. The good thing about the army, they train you to use your senses in ways civilians could never imagine. I’ve taught my boys how to do the same. That’s how we’ve managed to stay alive in some hairy ass situations, most of them involving the man whose daughter was now sleeping under my roof.