Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
He’d pretty much become the Hounds mascot.
Turning my eyes back to the contract, I flipped to the last page and read the clause, then smirked. “Well done.” Ace grinned.
Looking at Ashe, I asked, “The exclusivity requirement?”
“Took a little convincing, but they agreed,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his back against a wall.
I nodded and signed where indicated. Yeah, my guys were fucking brilliant. That single line could make us a lot of money, which made up for the fact that I wasn’t happy doing business with this group in the first place. But I’d been convinced that it was better for us to contract with them so we could make sure they didn’t do shit we’d have to clean up. Particularly if it included their dead bodies.
We had our hands in a lot of different businesses and activities, some of them legal, some in a dark gray area. But we had a code that we lived by, our own brand of justice. While it was honorable, it often meant working outside the laws of the land.
Besides our legitimate businesses and Ace’s mad skills in the stock market and investments, the MC’s main source of income revolved around making people disappear. We weren’t killers for hire, though we did “kill” a person’s identity. We helped people establish a new life, which was one reason we needed to truly trust our members and patches.
A few decades ago, the lines the Hounds would cross were a fuck of a lot further in the gray zone. I hadn’t been around back then, but I’d heard a hell of a lot of stories. But by the time I prospected, Pierce had already cleaned shit up. Our former prez hadn’t had much choice, not after his daughter was dragged into some club bullshit that got her kidnapped. Luckily, that mess had turned out for the best since she fell for the president of the Silver Saints MC, who’d been a rival of the Hounds way back when.
When I was with the CIA, most of my operations involved protecting and placing assets. It was my specialty, particularly my talent for forging documents—although we didn’t reveal to our clients which Hound possessed that skill.
Several of the patches had abilities that were perfect for operations like this, and after helping a few people out as a favor, we realized making people disappear into a new life could be a very lucrative income stream. Although we didn’t always require a fee…depending on the circumstances. But those situations were a well-guarded secret so we didn’t get a fuck ton of sob stories trying to screw us over.
Blaze put his hands on the armrests of his chair and pushed to his feet. “Gotta get shit sorted for the run tomorrow,” he said gruffly. “The job requires a lot of burn equipment.”
My vice president had been given his road name because he was a fire expert. During his time in the military, he’d earned a PhD in Combustion Science and had become a pyrologist. He’d worked as an arson investigator but was also a demolitions expert. Occasionally, the government still called him for help with a controlled burn. His talents came in very handy when someone needed to “die,” or evidence needed to be conspicuously destroyed.
“Taking Echo and Kevlar?” I confirmed.
“Yeah. And a couple of enforcers.”
“Paperwork for that job is in the skiff room.”
We’d built a SCIF—a secure room or data center that protects sensitive security information from surveillance and leaks—when I took over as president and we started hiring out our unique skills. It also doubled as a safe for other things that we needed to protect.
Blaze lifted his chin in acknowledgment. “Let you know when it’s done.”
He turned and stalked from the room while Ash moved over to take his seat. “Wizard call you yet?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Something he told you that should have come to me first?” One of the pluses of being prez, my authority was absolute and I kept a tight fist on the reins. Some would have called it micromanaging, but that was how I guaranteed things were done in a way that I controlled. Everything was to be run by me. Then our failures fell on my shoulders…and our successes were shared by the club as a whole.
My men were completely loyal, which was why I gave them autonomy in the right circumstances. I knew exactly when someone needed freedom to complete a task. It let them know they had my trust and often boosted their creativity.
“Nah. Saw him gloating when I walked by his office earlier. Knew he was doing background checks, so I was curious.”
I shook my head, and one corner of my mouth lifted. “Gossiping like a little girl.”
Ash rolled his eyes and propped one ankle over his opposite knee. “Bullshit. Curiosity is what usually gets me the win on a case.”