Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Speakin’ of ambushes, had an issue at Heaven’s Angels a few hours ago.”
“And the reason why I called this meetin’,” Zeke added.
If the room wasn’t wired before, it was now.
“What issue?” Chill asked, now on high alert.
“Had a Soul in the club. Thinkin’ he was scopin’ out the business to take intel back to his club.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Chaos shouted at the same time Cruz pounded the table with his fist and yelled, “Goddamn ballsy!”
“Was he wearin’ his colors?” Chill asked more calmly.
“No. Rooster got a gut instinct ‘bout the guy and he was right. We fuckin’ handled it.”
“How d’you handle it?” Chill asked, intently focused on Rage.
“Like I said, ambushed him. He won’t be talkin’ to anyone but fish.”
“Damn,” Wheels whispered, then a smile grew across his face.
“How we deal with shit like that gotta be a future discussion,” Zeke started. “The quarry is good in a pinch, but it’s somethin’ we don’t got control over.”
“What—” Chill began to ask.
Zeke shook his head. “Ain’t a discussion for tonight. With us tryin’ to open the dispensary, don’t got the scratch now for any other options.”
Rage tried to get them back on track. “If they’re runnin’ north late at night, easy enough to ambush them in the dark.”
“Or do we wanna get them when they’re heading back down south? That way the Mafia ain’t getting suspicious when their product keeps disappearing. Get them after the drop,” Cruz suggested.
That was a good idea, but only for the occasional ambush to thin their numbers. Like they previously discussed, it would be smarter to cut the head off the snake first. That snake being the Russos. They had the funds, the manpower, and the firepower to take the Angels out.
Wheels spoke up first. “Don’t know what the fuckin’ solution is, but we better come up with one soon. After what they did with the Furry Angels, I’m thinkin’ they’re gonna keep fuckin’ with our weak spots.”
“Are you saying the girls are our weak spot?” Cruz asked.
“Ain’t they?” Wheels countered. “Kids and women are always easy targets.”
Cruz groaned and shook his head. “That shit don’t leave this room. Kinda like my balls where they fucking are. Actually, more than kinda.” From where Rage sat, he could see the club treasurer cup his nads.
Zeke grunted. “Know how I feel about that fuckin’ club of theirs.”
“Nothin’ we can do ‘bout it, brother,” Chill said next.
“Says who?” Zeke asked his younger brother.
The VP snorted. “You gonna tell ‘em what to do?”
“They can pretend all they fuckin’ want, but they’re still goddamn DAMC property. What we say goes.”
Here we fuckin’ go again. Rage dropped his head and shook it.
“Think that’s fuckin’ funny?” Zeke asked him. “Their fuckin’ club’s gonna be bigger than ours soon. Don’t want any other club thinkin’ we’re pussies ‘cause we can’t control our fuckin’ women.”
The Angels of Fury outgrowing the DAMC anytime soon was an exaggeration. It took decades for the DAMC to get as big as it was. They were choosy as fuck when it came to who they allowed to wear a prospect cut. And the number of women who wanted to join an all-women’s MC was a handful.
He needed to bring the conversation back to the Souls and the threats to their club—a club that included those same women. “Since we’re talkin’ ‘bout the women, wanna bring somethin’ else up. With the threat of the Souls movin’ product through our area, it’ll be best if Lyric moves in with Bri. Havin’ both of them sharin’ that apartment would be safer.”
Chaos cocked an eyebrow. “You run that past my sister?”
“Think she’d have a problem with it?” Rage asked the club secretary.
“Think she don’t got a say,” Zeke interjected. “Bri don’t fuckin’ pay a damn dime in rent. Nix said Lyric’s been savin’ up to get her own place. Don’t blame her. Nobody sittin’ at this table wanted to live with their parents once they were old enough to move the fuck out. Thinkin’ Rage is right. Safer for them two to share the apartment than for Lyric to get a place on her own.” The DAMC president turned toward Chill. “What d’ya think?”
The VP stared at the carved DAMC logo at the center of the table for a long minute, but before he could respond, Wheels did. “Might put a kink in Chill hittin’ that.”
“Fuckin’ asshole,” Chaos barked. “Don’t need to hear that shit ‘bout my sister.”
“Then plug your fuckin’ ears. Everybody knows my brother’s been sniffin’ around your sister for a long damn time,” Zeke told him.
“Don’t think Bri knows,” Chaos mumbled under his breath. “And I ain’t tellin’ her.”
“Why the fuck are you even bringin’ this shit up durin’ a meetin’?” Chill asked Rage, not sounding at all like his normal chill self.
“Just fuckin’ explained it,” he answered. “Lyric wants to move the fuck out.”