Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Probably not.
“No worries there, Prez,” he said as his stomach turned over. “Pretty sure none of us are stupid enough to go there.”
Copper grunted.
“All right, I’ll get serious,” Mav said as Melody walked back over with a loaded tray giving off scents of cinnamon and maple.
She deposited the food with quick efficiency and no flirtation this time, reading the change of tone at the table. “Enjoy, gentlemen. Flag me down if you need anything else.”
“Thanks, hon.” Mav wasted no time slathering his omelet in hot sauce. “So what’ve you got for us, Cop?” As soon as the question left his lips, he shoveled in an enormous bite of food in his mouth.
Copper shifted to pull his phone from his pocket. After a few swipes and taps, he laid it, screen up, in the center of the table. “Jigsaw took this last night.”
Rocket must have already viewed the photos because he didn’t lean in the way Mav and Saint did.
“Shit,” Mav muttered as he swiped through the photos of a man wearing a biker cut distributing drugs to various buyers behind a dumpster. “Fentanyl?”
“That’s my guess.”
“Fuck. Last thing we need is an active dealer right here in town.”
“Yeah.”
Saint risked a glance at Copper, who wore a fierce scowl. “Where were these taken?”
“Behind that payday loan place on Wilkshire. He spotted the rider on the highway when he was with Izzy in her car. They tailed him until he set up shop. Said he sold to about five people before they had to leave so Iz could get to work on time.”
“Mav, zoom in so I can see their rockers.” Mav separated his fingers, narrowing in on a back view of the biker’s cut. “What’s that say, Devil’s something. Dominion?”
“That’s what it looks like to me too,” Mav added. He’d abandoned his food and frowned at the phone, entirely focused on the task at hand.
“Yeah, that’s what I came up with. I did a cursory search on them. Not much info. Think they’re based out of Memphis.”
“Hmm.” Mav stroked his chin, one of the few places on his body not covered in ink. “I’ll head to the office and do a deeper dive when we leave.” He owned a security company that specialized in PI work, camera installation, and the like. If information on these guys existed, Maverick would find it.
“I might know someone who could clue us in to who these guys are.”
Copper raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
Nodding, Saint sat back against the booth and picked up his knife and fork. If he didn’t start eating, his food would go cold, and nothing sucked more than a piping hot breakfast gone cold. “Yeah, you all know how I was when Mak and I first escaped the cult. I was an angry fucking kid. I fell in with a shit crowd for a while. Thunder and Mak basically slapped me upside my head, set me right, and helped me get legit work too. Started me repossessing cars, which turned out to be a perfect fit for someone who didn’t mind confrontation and knew how to disappear fast. But I still know a few people from back then. I’m thinking of one guy in particular who probably shouldn’t be alive right now. No way would a new supplier fly under his radar.”
“Think you can get in touch with him today?”
“Probably. As long as he’s not face down in a ditch somewhere.”
“All right. Good. Mav, you get on the computer. Saint, you get with your friend. Hopefully, we can dig up enough dirt to have something to use as leverage to drive them out of town before shit turns violent or people start dropping dead from Fent ODs.”
“Yeah, we don’t need that shit. Next thing we know, we’ll have Feds coming out of our asses. I do not want DEA agents crawling all over our mountains.”
“Ugh.” Mav rested his head back on the bench, staring up. “That always starts a chain reaction. DEA, then ATF, and fucking FBI. Christ, do I hate the fucking FBI.” He scrubbed a hand down his face as he sighed.
Once upon a time, Stephanie worked for the FBI. After a series of screwed-up events, including Stephanie and Maverick being taken hostage together, the FBI sent her in to infiltrate the MC. Instead, she fell in love with Mav and almost ended up in a cell alongside the rest of the club. The FBI hung her out to dry, and she walked away without looking back. To say Mav carried a bitter grudge would be the understatement of the century.
“Let’s not jump the gun.” Rocket set his fork down as he looked at Mav. “For all we know, these guys are low-level dealers who’ll leave town without a problem. Wait to freak out until we have to.”
“Yeah.” Mav sighed. “You’re right.” He rolled his shoulders, then went back to his food. “That shit gets me riled.”