Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“Whatever the fuck is necessary,” Ace growls as if he’s found a new resolve. “Dix is right. Who knows who the fuck Rojas will team up with next? He’s priority number one. Once that’s in place, we’ll hunt down the Latin Mafia and get rid of them one by one.”
Ace’s words bring me a sense of relief. Sophie and Hope will be safe. “I’m down for that shit.” The only way Sophie will feel safe is if those assholes no longer breathe the same air as she and our daughter.
“Shades, let’s see what’s reasonable to pay before I talk to Riot’s Prez. Preacher, as the Chaplin, I might have you visit the lifers and make the ask. Discreetly. This isn’t the kind of shit even the Iron Reapers can say on a phone call.”
Preacher nods. “Just tell me when.”
“Maybe we’ll get Noelle to go with you?” I ask, chuckling cause I think I’m so funny.
Dix laughs. “Don’t tell Gia. Killing an attorney isn’t good for business.” Everyone laughs because Noelle is a shark in stripper’s clothing, and no woman in her right mind would be comfortable with her man taking a road trip with the woman who has both beauty and brains.
“Gia will be fine,” Preacher grumbles. “Don’t worry about us. Just keep an eye on Valetina. No way Rojas is coming after Sophie and leaving his only daughter who betrayed him alone.”
Dix sobers immediately. “Fucker.”
We all laugh, but Ace brings us back around to club business. “The help from the Iron Reapers isn’t free.”
“Yeah, we’re gonna pay ‘em off, right?” I say because what the fuck else do they want? I’m grateful for Riot’s help, but nobody takes advantage of my MC. “What else do they want? The fight at County helped us both out so that debt should be square.”
The fight with the Latin Mafia helped them keep control of the drug trade going in and out of the jail.
Everyone goes silent. Repaying a debt is something that always has to be done because you can’t let fuckers have anything to hold over you. It’s a matter of honor as much as trust.
“What’s the price?” Banger asks in a low, worried voice.
“The money is for the man on the inside doing Rojas. We still owe them for the intel on the Latin Mafia.” Ace sighs and looks at each of us, a sure fucking sign he doesn’t like what he’s about to say. “There’s a mayor in Tig Heights making life difficult for the Reapers. He’s trying to use them to prove he’s tough on crime or some shit, but he’s happy to let it go for a price. And that price keeps going up. They need him to be dealt with. Permanently.”
“We don’t do murder for hire,” Coop growls, clearly disturbed by this turn of events. “We’re protectors.”
“And if doing this protects the MC, what’s the problem?” I understand where Coop is coming from, I really do. “Rojas isn’t a threat that will ever go away. What we did to him and to his cartel, that’s some generational feuding type of shit. Every breath he takes puts someone we care about at risk.”
Dix nods. “I hate to say it, but I’m with Tank on this one. Valentina and I can’t walk the streets safely if this asshole’s still taking up space.” He shakes his head, the threat to his wife one that lingers in his mind constantly. “It has to be this way.”
Coop doesn’t like it, but he nods. “We’re just gonna put two in a mayor? Fine, just know the blowback will be on us, not the Iron Reapers.”
“I feel like I got a few extra lives,” Banger says with a cocky grin. “I’ll do it.”
“Everybody, just think about it for now. We’ll talk about it again in a week and vote then. Just remember, this is about getting rid of Arturo Rojas for good.”
Rojas is a constant threat that won’t ever go away, but murder for hire? That’s some shit that’ll get us all locked up for life. The mood in the room is heavy, too heavy considering just on the other side of the door, the women are celebrating a new life. My daughter. Hope.
“I need a fucking drink,” Shades says, breaking through the tense silence and drawing a few laughs around the table.
“You and me both, brother.” Dix claps him on the back and turns to Ace expectantly, waiting for him to dismiss us.
“Dismissed,” he says and bangs the gavel with a reluctant smile. “Get outta here and go celebrate. Don’t forget to raise a glass to Tank.”
“Gonna raise the whole fucking bottle,” Lucky grumbles as he pushes off the wall and leaves the room. His stress is palpable—all of ours is. It doesn’t matter about the party atmosphere going on outside the door because we all have a decision to make.