Flint huffs out a snort. “No comparison, this one’s better. Less commute, and you can drink on the job.”
“Probably not something the boss wants to hear.” Casper’s voice comes over the speaker clear as day before I see him on-screen as he takes a seat. They set up these conference calls in Flint’s office, since he has too many computers to move to another room. Also, it controls how many people are on the call, as only three can fit into Flint’s office with the amount of tech crap he has. And that’s only if everyone’s standing.
“Meant coffee, boss.” Flint smirks as he types on his computer, never looking back at the prez behind him.
“Save it.” Casper is quick to shut down Flint, but we all know it’s with no real malice. “Welcome to the new year, Domino. How’s Michigan doing?”
“Fucking colder than before. My dick is liable to freeze off if the temp keeps dropping around here.”
“Buckle up. I hear a winter storm is headed your way. Make sure the boys have what they need.”
I nod in agreement. I don’t tell him I’m already prepared. Some might see his words of wisdom as him micromanaging, but the guy is the furthest from that as possible. When he talks, he’s making sure the others are thinking about everything. Seeing things from all angles like he does. I never got the year’s worth of training to be a president of theclub, as is tradition. Which is fine since I’m not staying. I’m here for a job, and then I’m heading back home.
And sure, home gets cold too. We even get snowed in. But that’s Kansas cold. I swear Michigan cold is a whole other level. No wonder half the damn bikers in this state are mean as hell. You have to be to stay here. Stubborn too. Actually, they might be great guys, just their faces are permanently frozen in a scowl. At least those in Detroit. But then again, itisDetroit. The rumors floating around the clubs down there might not just be a bad joke.
The Hounds have a reputation too. It varies depending on the town, but the consensus is, you don’t fuck with a Hound. Not unless you’re looking for a dogfight.
Casper might not have been in the position to take over the role he’s in either, but the man was born to play it. And he’s staying. The mother chapter isn’t like the rest of the clubs. It’ll always need a king on the throne, or the club’s fucked. We barely lasted a week before voting him in when our last president went down.
Law was one of the greats, if not the greatest of all time. He took the club places and looked out for most. He saw things, made changes, ruled with an iron fist. It was under his watch that the sister clubs thrived and we started Operation Hell Hound, a side gig that allows the club as a whole to go into mercenary gigs. We even set up a training facility in the North Dakota chapter for people to prep for missions and take mandatory R&R when they get back. That’s where Mickey, Rooster, and Lucky were before they got pulled over here.
Which is the writing on the wall that no one wants to admit to. The flaw in the last king’s crown, so to speak.Under Law’s watch, we had this club and who knows how many others get pulled into things the Hounds are completely against. Sure, not all sister chapters are the same. Like a person, no two clubs are completely identical. Even twins have tells. The other clubs might mirror the mother chapter, but the people are different. The rules might be seen differently. Things change, some forget, others completely ignore.
Less than six months on the job, and Casper is already setting up his legacy in the form of realizing we need a national chapter. One that might even roam around for a bit to check in on places. He wanted to do it himself, and has, to a point. But the last time we talked, he was thinking it needed to be more permanent, not just something like he’s doing now. He can’t reach everything, but he’s getting the backing he needs to get a national club set up and even recruiting to see who would want and be willing to run things. Casper might have a hand on the national level, but I doubt he wants to run it. The mother chapter is big enough to deal with.
“Anything new? Flint says he had to hack a woman’s feed and erase some shit.”
I crack my neck to the left and right before nodding. “Yeah. We learned that one of the people on our street has cameras that are pretty detailed. Didn’t think on it before, as we didn’t see any when we did our initial sweep of the property. She has them hidden pretty good.”
“And the video quality rocks,” Flink butts in. “She had clear details of everything that went down when you arrived. One of her cameras points right at the front of your club, and if you zoom in, you can see clear past the front doors. Might want to change the glass or something.”
I nod. I already have new shit being brought in. While I understand we want to let the light in as much as possible to keep depression down in a cold area, we don’t want to be vulnerable. Having so many glass windows on the first floor is a recipe for disaster. Most of the windows are one-way glass, allowing you to see out but no one to see in. But the doors leading in are still the original ones from when they bought this place. It was an open hotel trying to draw in tenants for the night, and we don’t like unannounced visitors.
“Already on it. Arriving in four days. They were delayed with the holidays.”
Both of them nod at my words. Might seem silly to get custom doors, but I wanted the best—you know, the kind that are bulletproof. Don’t care about color or anything else to make it look nice. It’s about the quality of the product, and I’ll wait a bit extra for it.
“How far back do you want me to go? I didn’t just want to clear all of it in case we need to look at something, so I waited till this morning to check with you. I’ve looked over some feeds already, but not all,” Flint says.
I scratch my neck and look off to the side to think. “The day I arrived for sure. Maybe Casper can give you dates on when he was here, and we can see if the former VP was talking to anyone we don’t know about yet. Oh, and two nights ago.”
I hear the clickety-clack of the keyboard stop as he looks straight at the camera, at me, with raised eyebrows. Flint looks back at Casper, who nods, then at me again before shrugging and pulling up the feed for both of us to watch on the side of the screen.
“What’s so bad about this?” He’s talking about me carrying Viv inside. From the angle, I can see my face, and I’m so focused on her that I wonder if my friends can tell. I can. I remember it well, from the moment she closed her eyes when I scooped her into my arms till I walked into the clubhouse. Even with the bruising and swollen face, she was beautiful.
“Not that angle. You got one on Howlers, the tattoo shop?”
“Yup, coming right up.” Flint loads it, and we all watch it play out from her arriving and waiting on the pickup, then fast-forwarding to when the limo comes back.
Flint whistles when he sees her come out and start pounding on the guy. “Damn, that’s hot. Hello!” he shouts when Lucky goes down.
Casper shakes his head and chuckles. “Got yourself a spitfire, I see.”
I shake my head. “Not mine. She’s MMA. Does some underground fighting or something. I want you to see if you can dig into her story and see if it’s legit. Maybe even see if she’s part of C8.”
This has Casper holding my stare through the cameras before nodding. Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve dealt with an operative from the Crazy Eights. They have a habit of sneaking into the club life without us knowing. Viv has given me nothing to indicate she’s part of the group, and that’s why I’m asking. C8’s operatives blend into society so well, it’s almost impossible to tell who belongs with the group and who doesn’t. They were the ones who brought us here in the first place when they pulled the club into a deal to clear our debt to them. It’s why Casper almost got blown up and howhe got his old lady all in one. It would make sense if they left an operative close to a clubhouse that might still have members inside dealing with something they want to end.
I still don’t know if I trust C8. Casper does. Well, he trusts some members. I think he’s in the same boat as me and hesitant to group all of them into the warm-feeling category. We now have a link with them, a partnership if you will. It’s new. Possibilities of how far we both could go are large. But it also means we need to be careful, as the fallout could be detrimental. They claimed that if we parted ways, it would be fine, but I can already see that some Hounds are too connected with them already. A break from the group could break some people. At the very least, it’d make people choose between the person they love and the life they love. And they aren’t the same thing in my book.
