Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
There was that.
“For another, this won’t be about attacks on the Club we gotta defend against. We won’t be on our back foot. Ever. We can go in knowing what we’re facing, discuss it and decide.”
And there was that.
“And last, this isn’t us going out and possibly buying trouble in an effort to keep our patch clean. Risks will be measured and discussed. And we can cut loose if shit goes somewhere we don’t wanna follow.”
And yeah, there was that.
Rush studied him acutely. “You’re not into this idea.”
“I’m one hundred percent into this idea.”
And he was.
He was no cop and no private investigator.
What he was, was Graham Black and Shepherd Ironside’s son.
And he’d been thinking it was either go to Jules and see if he could work with other kids on a volunteer basis or suck it up and enjoy building things with Georgie while he sold fan belts.
This was better.
Way fucking better.
“I’m glad you said that. Because what I haven’t told you yet is that Lee has also been in touch. They got so much business, it’s comin’ out their ears. In that, there’s a steady stream of people who need him, approach him, but when they find out his rates, they gotta take a hike because they cannot afford him. He told me he does a shit-ton of pro bono work, but he needs a good place to punt. What you did with Carlyle, he reached out and asked if we wanted to be a receiving team. I said I’d take it to the table.”
Dutch was back to staring at his brother.
It didn’t take long before he started smiling, slow.
It took even less time for Rush to return it.
And his was fast.
“I’ll call a meet,” Rush finished it.
“And I’ll be there. But just sayin’, I got as far as I got with Carlyle’s case mostly because of Georgie.”
“Is she going anywhere?” Rush asked.
“Fuck no,” Dutch answered.
Rush smiled again and this one was bigger.
And Dutch returned it.
They clasped forearms, Rush turned and jogged back to the Compound, and Dutch finished making his way to Cherry’s office.
He barely entered it when Elvira declared, “I love your girlfriend, and me gettin’ to do this isn’t the only reason why.”
With that, she slapped a little black shopping bag against his chest that had white writing on it and a pretty flower stuck to it.
“Now, I gotta get back to the commandos,” she said and walked right out.
Dutch looked to Cherry behind her desk.
“I think Georgie will really like them. But if she doesn’t, she can take them back and get what she wants. Don’t open the box and look, though, honey. They tie it up really pretty and she’ll want to undo it,” Tyra said.
He nodded and said, “Thanks.”
“Anytime. Seriously,” she replied.
He lifted his chin to her, walked out to the steps that led up to her office and looked into the bag.
At the bottom was a little black box tied up with white fabric ribbon and it had another of those flowers stuck on top.
Such total class, even if Georgie didn’t dig what was inside, she’d like the packaging.
He’d stowed the bag and was back behind the counter of Ride, shooting the shit with Chill and a prospect they called Hugger (and they called him that because the dude hated to be touched) when his phone rang.
And he saw from what was on his screen, if it was what he thought it was, that day was going to be a very good day.
“Yo,” he greeted Eddie.
“Thanks for the heads-up, man. Dropped a few lines in a few ears, people started opening their eyes and watchin’, then a coupla supervisors called in a few female employees, and Jackson Stamper has been creepin’ on them somethin’ sick. They didn’t want to say anything because they thought they were bein’ too sensitive and it was only them he was gettin’ too close to, pushin’ for dates, and findin’ ways to rub up against them that couldn’t exactly be called sexual harassment, even when it totally was. He was let go this morning, and so they didn’t do that ugly, he was warned not to ask for a reference, and told, in a nice government HR way, he could go fuck himself for severance.”
All right then.
Dutch didn’t know if that was cerebral.
But he hoped like fuck it’d be long-lasting.
“Right.”
“We got any other issues we don’t know about that you do that you can help us solve?” Eddie joked.
“Not right now,” Dutch told him.
“You know my phone number when you do. Later, Dutch.”
“Later, Eddie.”
Dutch tucked his phone in his back pocket.
“Why you grinnin’ like that?” Hugger asked.
The kid was surly. Big. Beefy. According to Carissa, he was “teddy-bear good-looking.”
But he was a teddy bear to teddy bears like Chucky was to dolls.
None of the brothers knew what was under his skin.