Page 38 of Sinister Red
“Almost a quarter of a million dollars for each club. Depends on the actual number though.” He stares at the wall ahead of him, his mind racing in a way that’s even obvious to us. “Say it’s 1.1 mill. Forty percent is four hundred and forty k, cut in half is two hundred and twenty thousand dollars for each club. Tank and Gunner take…” Crunchy looks to the rest of us in question.
“President and VP only take thirty percent of the runs,” Cy says as he adjusts his ball cap. “They take fifty if they go with us, but they haven’t done that in years.”
Crunchy turns back to the wall. “If they take fifty, that leaves one hundred and ten thousand split between us, but if they take thirty percent, that means we each walk away with about 15.5 k.” His dark eyes turn back to us. “And that’s just running on 1.1 million.”
“Considering the fact that this could be a cross country trip with about a dozen different ways it could get fucked up, I’d wager to bet that it’s more than that or else it wouldn’t be worth it for them.” I nod because I know for a fact I wouldn’t run with strangers or risk something so goddamn huge for anything less than two myself. Way too much risk if it outweighs the reward.
“The Butcher will be a problem though,” Cy grunts. “He isn’t going to walk away from something like this, not that easily, and if he already met with the O’Malleys then he has more info than we do at this point.”
Brick nods. “Huge fucking problem. That guy doesn’t let shit go.”
“Nope.” Marbles grins. “That’s why I always enjoy our visits.”
A few of us chuckle at that, solely because my best friend took a piss on Beau’s bike shortly after his hostile takeover of the Demon Seeds back in the nineties. Marbles was a punk kid at the time, trying to get a rise out of afat ass biker dude,as he put it, and after Beau nearly knocked him out, my best friend went back and did it again a few nights later, something that the Seeds bastard president has never forgotten. Mainly because Marbles will still make it a point to piss on his bike any time he sees it in town.
“So, what’s the other reason you think Tank and Gunner called church this afternoon?” My gaze bouncing between each of my brothers.
Jackal looks at Spider, the cousins having a moment of silent conversation before he turns to me and sends me fucking reeling. “We think they’re wanting to retire.”
My eyebrows fly to my hairline. “What?”
They both nod.
“Why? They’re only in their fifties and far from fucking senile. They don’t need to fucking retire. No one is trying to push them out or…” But Jackal is shaking his head. “There has been someone trying to push them out?”
“Jericho got a big head for a while there. Trying to tell Dad and Tav how to run shit, suggesting other businesses, but he’s gone now. Booted a year or two ago.”
“Ok… so it’s not because someone is trying to push them out?”
“Nah.”
“Then why the fuck do they want to retire?”
Pope clears his throat. “Breaker wants out.”
My stomach fucking drops down to my balls at that revelation. It makes sense. It makes so much goddamn sense to be honest, and I’m a little surprised our SAA hasn’t bailed sooner considering what happened to Conner, but Jesus, this is like telling me my parents are getting a divorce and I was adopted all in one go. Or it would be if I had real parents and a normal life, but you get my point.
“He’s stuck around for a lot longer than he planned to, and he’s just done.” Pope looks right fucking through me as he speaks and that darkness I swear lives inside the holy man is peeking through. “He wants to be able to focus on Shannon and Maci, doesn’t want to worry about this shit affecting them. It’s already taken so much…”
“Right, yeah. That makes sense.” I scrub a hand over my face. “But why the hell would Tank and Gunner want to retire too? And who the fuck is gonna run the club if the three of them walk? We already have shit for everything else, no solid Road Captain or Enforcer. Trudy can’t continue doing the books after Gunner leaves, and… Jesus fucking H, this does not—what?”
I look around to find all eight of my friends staring at me, Jackal, and Marbles, wearing almost matching—slightly maniacal—grins.
“Dude.” My best friend’s look of insanity grows. “You just answered your own fucking question.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Jackal points square at my chest. “You, dude. It’s fuckingyou.”
“What’s me?”
A few of the guys chuckle, a couple roll their eyes, but Spider tilts his head and looks at me with a small smirk. “You’re it, man.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Porkchop smiles as he high fives Brick. “You are so fucking it.”
I start shaking my head. “You assholes are fucking nuts. We need to be concerned about this and you’re acting like you took a dip in Marbles’ crazy ass pool.”
“Nah,Prez.” Jackal laughs. “This makes so much goddamn sense we’d be nuts not to see it.”
