“As you know, Duke is still in the wind.”
I snarl at his words but keep focused on what he says next. My dislike for Duke is the same as all the other brothers. He’s a fucker with a ticking clock counting down his death. As soon as we find him, it’s shoot to kill. Our prez, Law, already gave us the green light to shoot on sight. We don’t need to keep him around for questions or anything. He’s caused more trouble for our club than anyone else. Not that I’ve been around for long—being a recently patched-in brother has “newbie” linked to me—but I’ve put in my time. And while I was on bitch duty for the year-plus that I prospected, I learned a few things. I got close to some brothers and found out about others. I was also there for most of the shit Duke did to the club, and the old ladies. Guy’s got a thing for messing with them. Think he secretly wants one but knows he ain’t getting anyone willing, and that’s why he’s part of the skin trade—easier for him to just buy a woman.
“I hate the fucker, but even I’ve got to admit he’s got some Houdini shit up his sleeve to keep getting away. First the fire with your girl, then the barn shoot-out you guys told me about with Mad Max and his woman.” I shake my head in almost astonishment. If I did math, I would think it didn’t add up. I might not be a genius like Fairy, but even I know the odds are against him.
Flint nods as he looks around the bar. We bought this place a few months back, and things have changed for it since we got it. For one, we’re making money and not losing it. When the Hounds invest in something, we go all in, making it a success. The drinks are cheap, the place is clean, and the women love the bathrooms. Don’t ask me why that’s a thing, but we get more Yelp reviews on the nice bathrooms than anything else here.
Maybe that’s the key to success, nice bathrooms.
We also made a place for brothers to come and go outside the club. We got people on the door and outside. We might not be at Church, but we know we’re safe to talk here. The corner of the bar Flint and I are at is reserved for us. Flint’s construction team did something to keep the walls from talking and not echoing out what we’re saying as we discuss business. Sure, someone could get close enough to listen, but between the bartender, who’s on our payroll, and us, the glares we give out to anyone who gets close keep a wide radius around us.
“Club’s done a good job so far in watching everyone, but it’s going to get tight soon. Club likes your landlord idea, brother. We’re still in negotiations to get the coffee shop up and running under our name, but while we wait that out, I’ve got my construction crew working on the town house across from the club. Told Law that we’d be able to get that shit going and us seeing renters before the grumpy bastard who owns the coffee building caves into selling us his building.”
“Why’s the owner giving us so much shit? Got a problem with bikers or something?”
I knew the club voted on my idea a while back, but it was put on hold last I heard. Is it insane that I feel like I’m ten feet tall right now? I made that pitch when I was still prospecting. And while I knew it to be easy money for the club in the long run, I’m still surprised it got voted on and is now in play. Especially when we’ve got so many other things going on with Bulldog’s beer going international, the Duke issue, and our fun side project, a.k.a. mercenaries for hire.
“Nah, Dom is cool, just a grumpy old man. He likes to do shit in his own time and doesn’t want to be rushed at all. He knows he has a prime location on his hands and has had several offers to buy the shop before. He might have shut it down eight years ago after his wife died, but he ain’t willing to part with it. Crazy fuck wants to still be part of it. He’s willing to let us in for a cut, a large one at that, but only if we bring in someone willing to work with him. Which is not going to happen.”
“Why?”
“’Cause the bastard is a fucking bear on his good days. If you think Bulldog is grumpy, he’s fucking shooting rainbows out of his ass compared to Dom.” Flint huffs out a crazed laugh.
I just nod. Bulldog ain’t the nicest. Still not sure how he got a sweet kid and a sweeter old lady willing to hang around him so much. He’s the VP, and I got mad respect for the man, but I also know to stay in the clear. Guy’s like his name—you piss him off, he ain’t going to let it go. Flint knows that firsthand, and I, unfortunately, was part of the punishment due to a simple case of association.
But as the laughter of a certain beauty pulls my eye, I can’t help but smile into my beer. The punishment of being a glorified babysitter for a few weeks might have sucked at the time, but the benefits far outweighed it. And meeting Bailey was beyond a benefit. It was a reward in itself.
“Anyhow, I wanted to get your read on the boys you met in Washington and the other chapters you and Bass visited. Any of them willing to extend you a courtesy to come back here and help out for a bit? I would rather be the one watching over my woman, but the club needs me too. My hands are tied, and if we’re going to bring in the help, I only want the best.”
I shrug. “They’re club.”
He nods at me. He gets it. Club is club. Yeah, they’re sister chapters and we’re the mother, but Law runs a tight ship. Every sister’s chapter president has to do a stint here. They’ve got to learn how to run things like Law does. So saying they’re club is all that should be needed, as it confirms that shit is still run the same way we do at home.
“Still,” I continue, “I can get you a list of the boys I connected with who are wanting a new adventure. Might even find a few brothers who want to branch out and need to be here as it is for Law to look them over.”
“That so?” He perks up at the idea of expanding the club to more chapters. Guy might fool the rest of the club, but I know he gets turned on by the possibility of getting to expand his eye in the sky, so to speak. Guy’s got a hard-on for being able to see everything he can from his computer screens, and a new chapter could bring in a new area of the country Flint’s dark to right now.
“Easy, buddy. Don’t need to wave that freak flag too much. Your Kitten might run away,” I tease him as I drink the rest of my beer.
“Nah, she knows just how much of a freak I am, and she loves it. And don’t act like you don’t like the idea of getting back in my chair. I know you got the tech skills to be there, and that’s half the reason Prez sent you with Bass and the other prospect. We needed someone on my level to set things up for them, and I sure as hell wasn’t leaving my old lady after what we went through.”
I grunt in agreement. Can’t argue with that fact. If I had a woman at my side, I wouldn’t have left either. But I didn’t and was happy to go recruit and get the building blocks set up for each chapter we visited that wanted in on the mercenary side of things. Other clubs might be involved with guns, prostitution, and drugs, but the Hounds have taken a new stance on things. We still offer protection for those who want to move shit under the radar of the feds, guns and shit like that. But we give a “hell no” on helping anyone push the hard drugs that fuck up people’s lives, and there’s zero skin trade business. But we ain’t opposed to being hired to protect the working girl on the street. Just ’cause they get paid to lie on their backs don’t mean they need to get beaten up by a john or skipped out on before the tab is paid, so to speak. Protection pays well, and having a small business like this bar and the garage to fix up cars and bikes that come in gives us some extra dough. But mercenary shit? Man, people pay big for things like that. And if the fee ain’t worth a brother’s life on the line, we back out. Not a single Hound would risk a brother for extra cash in their pocket.
“How did that go? Any issues on your end training the brothers and getting back into some old training habits?” He stares hard at me, and my hands shake a bit before I wipe them on my pants.
I always get that reaction when people want to talk about my past, and the look Flint gives me lets me know it’s on the table. Did I enjoy the Army? For a time, yeah. I was good at it, followed in my dad’s footsteps by joining the military and all that shit, even if it was a different branch. But after Rick got killed in action, things took a big turn for me. I got out as soon as I could, and it took me a while to even talk about my life in the Army. I still don’t like to. The brothers know that, which is why Flint’s skating around the topic.
“No issues,” I cough out as I adjust on my feet.
He nods at my lack of additional details. Hounds might be a brotherhood, but spilling our issues and having feelings talk ain’t part of it. Brothers are only known to do that when they fuck up with an old lady and need a brother’s help to tell them they’re a dumbass and to figure it out.
“You know you ain’t the only brother who got fucked up by the branch they served with. Hell, I bet most of us are still waiting for that call from the VA telling us to come in for that psych eval. Not saying you got to talk to me, but we got people who can be what you need. Even Bass.”
I snort my drink, coughing hard to breathe as Flint hits me on my back. “Bass is many things, but the guy can’t keep his trap shut long enough to listen to a story, much less not tell half the club about it an hour later.” I speak from experience.
“Nah, man, he pulls that shit on prospects, but you ain’t one anymore. He does it to see what a potential brother will do. Shake it off or bitch about it. Either way, we see another side of the guy trying to get into the club that we might not have known about. Saved the club a few times in the past from bringing in a few loose cannons who just went straight after Bass. One even gave him a few stitches to the head. If a guy goes nuts like that over a little gossip, then there’s no telling what he’d do over something legit,” Flint says with a shake of his head as he looks at the bar and not at me. Probably remembering shit before my time. “But he’s good, man. He can be serious when needed and listen as needed. Sure, we call him Bass because of the wide mouth on him, but he still knows when to shut up and listen.”
I just nod because I really got nothing else to say. I got close to Bass over the past few months. Kind of hard not to when you’re with a guy every day, either on the road or trying to convince a chapter to sign up to be on our Mercenary-R-Us team. I laugh at the name my mind created, and it has me looking around at the bar we’re in.
