Never Love An Outlaw (Deadly Pistols MC #1)(42)
“Firefly.”
Soon as the Prez said his name, the Enforcer moved, ripping open the zipper. His eyes bugged out when he saw the fat stacks of cash spilling out on the table, mostly smaller bills like fifties and twenties, mingled with hundreds.
It was a complete f*cking mess. I wasn't sure how the hell the pimp counted it. Hell, maybe he'd been too drugged up when the Deads dropped off his down payment for Meg, or else too busy shitting his pants.
He'd done enough of that before I blew his worthless brains out. I took a quick estimate and pegged it around twenty-five thousand. There'd been twice as much to start, but I'd divided that and given it to the whores when I opened up their rooms to deliver their pink slips.
Sure, they might go out and blow the shit on street smack, but at least it'd get them outta that rat's nest and into the city. The closer I got them to the shelter listed on that paper, the better.
Dust pushed Firefly and the other boys aside, reaching into my bag, pulling out fistfuls of cash and spreading it across our table.
“I'll be f*cking hog-tied.” He was still fisting big stacks of bills when he spun around and looked at me. “Where the hell did you get this?”
“Settling accounts. The pimp had a payday twice as big as the shit we confiscated from him last week. That was his down payment for selling her off, and it's ours now.”
“Aw, shit.” Dust's fists dropped, holding the cash limply at his sides, shaking his head. “Don't tell me...you killed the stupid sonofabitch?”
“Yeah.” No sense in hiding it.
None of the men in this room were stupid, even if they couldn't crunch numbers or cloak our operations from the Feds like I could.
“Fuck me alive.”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later. You know it, Prez, and so do I.” I swallowed, preparing for the biggest gamble yet. “The f*cker was tight with the Deads. He was a cash cow, besides being a walking sewer. I don't regret a damned thing. I brought the club some red meat and buried his carcass in the usual place, where nobody'll find his bones for a hundred years. Sure, the f*cks from Georgia will notice he's missing, but they're coming for us anyway sooner or later, after what happened to their guys...”
Sixty, Crawl, and I shared an uneasy look. I wasn't gonna say anything more about that and blow their cover, even though the Prez had probably figured it out.
“This is going in the club coffers,” Dust said slowly, the anger in his eyes receding. “You've earned yourself another chance – one week. That's all I'm giving you. I swear on my father's patch, Skin, if you f*ck us over, and don't get us the rest of what we're owed from this gal, I'll send the guys to pick her up and drag her ass back here, kicking and screaming.”
He stared right through me to the wall, where we had old photos and trophies framed for the club. His old man's cut hung there, patch facing out, one more relic among many in all the glories the Deadly Pistols had lived and lost.
“We've got about enough here to start another girlie bar, this time in Knoxville city limits. I'm going with the business plan I should've let you talk me into the first time. Whatever else happens, we'll do this shit right. This is our second chance. I'm not pissing it away.” The Prez stepped up, looking me dead in the eye. “If you f*ck us over, Skin, if your toy f*cks us over, I swear to Christ I'll make her work off every single red cent she owes. Don't think I haven't noticed what you're f*cking. She's got the tits and ass to be a slut. She'll be the first chick we put to work shaking what she's made of, seven days a week, even if we have to put a kinky mask over her face to keep any nosy *s from noticing who she is. If she doesn't pay up, mark my words, she's ours. Club property.”
Asshole. I didn't say it to his face, despite the anger howling through me. I was too busy thinking about how bad I wanted to make her my property. Mine, mine, and mine alone.
Joker's knife pulled away from my neck. I instinctively reached up and rubbed the impression he'd left, smearing a tiny blotch of rusty blood between my fingers.
“One week, Skin. That's all you get.” The Veep's dead eyes were more lively than usual. Creepy as a hungry f*cking snake. “I'm game for bringing her back here and putting her to work myself. Nobody f*cks this club. Not even the men who've given it their blood.”
Firefly still looked like a bull ready to charge, but his rage was deflating too. With a heavy sigh, he turned his back and walked to his spot, ripping his chair out to sit.
“Prez, with your approval, let's sit down and call a vote like gentlemen. I'll let this f*cking guy live another week and set his girl free. He's bound by the club rules – they both are. Skin here's done some stupid shit, but he ain't a rat.” He looked over the ranks of brothers, ending with me. “Trust is all we've got when we're outnumbered three to one by the Deads. He's right about one thing – they're coming. And they damned sure will rip our heads off in a heartbeat if we're fighting each other.”
The Prez nodded. Everybody followed his lead as we headed for our seats.
The vote went fast, the yeas rolling in one by one, unanimous.
When it was my turn, I only had Meg on my mind, hoping to high hell I wasn't making the biggest mistake of my life.
“Start packing,” I growled, kicking the door shut behind me.