Jax (Titan #9)(15)



Maybe lesson number one was actually don't make the first demand. Mayhem needed them. Jared could take their contract and money or not. He wasn't hard-pressed.

They wound through the dark hall with the Mayhem insignia on the walls and stale beer and cigarettes staining the air. It reminded Jax of his days in shitty bars after escaping basic training. There'd been no money and lots of stress to blow off. The place stunk like BO, sex, drunken nights, and forgotten memories.

Finally, the hall opened into a main room much larger than Jax expected, filled with pool tables, darts, a foosball table, and a long, fully stocked bar. Draft taps lined the top near a sliding glass door enclosing an outdoor patio the size of a parking lot. Barbecues and metal coolers sat near a raised platform with trash cans and beer kegs strewn at random.

"Through here." Hawke gestured as they cut across the pool table room and came to an ornately carved double wood door. Hawke banged his fist on a giant knocker as he walked past, and they continued through another carved door into a room next to the one Hawke banged on.

Once inside, an adjoining door opened, and three men walked in from the other room. Hawke made quick introductions, explaining who Jax and Jared were, then ticked off names. Tex was the sergeant at arms, Johnny was a vice president, and Ethan was the treasurer.

They took seats at the table, and Hawke eyed his men. His passing glance was a firm reminder that Mayhem was to remain a united front. Interesting to pick up on a slight disagreement in the ranks.

Johnny reacted the most. The other two didn't change their slouch when the VP cleared his throat as though signaling it was time to get down to business.

Hawke scowled at Johnny. "This is how we'd like it to—"

"And I appreciate how you'd like things to go," Jared cut off Hawke. "You gave us intel before we arrived. Distribution plans, financials, potential replacement partners, and the ideal buyouts. I know what you'd like."

Hawke's lips tightened, and Tex shifted to keep Johnny in his peripheral.

No one in Mayhem had to say who their problem child was as Johnny crossed his arms and groused.

Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose. "Maybe we—" His glare started with Hawke but ended on Jared—"haven't been briefed on your ideal situation."

Boss Man inched forward, challenging the room.

Hawke ignored Johnny and met Jared's eye. "Our ideal situation is out of the coke game with minimal financial loss and no body count. Does anybody care to amend that?"

Johnny's lip curled. "Minimal financial loss is vague as fuck."

"Johnny, shut your goddamn mouth." Tex turned in his chair and shook his head. "It was a club vote. Out of the drug business. The monetary impact at this point doesn't matter worth shit if we're being honest."

"We're just gonna let these assholes watch out for our bottom dollar?"

"Like Tex said, my friend, watch your goddamn mouth and show a little fucking respect for our guests," Hawke growled.

The only one who hadn't weighed in on the money—or at all—was the treasurer, and Jax wondered what the silent guy was thinking. No reaction, and Ethan didn't even seem interested. "What about you? Everybody has an opinion but you."

Ethan's brows went up toward the bandana that tied back his long hair, and he leaned back as though this were the first time he'd been asked. He pulled a pack of smokes from his back pocket then lit a cigarette. Two long drags later, he let the second cloud of smoke curl from his nostrils. "My interests lie in the longevity of my club. Our membership has spoken, leaders have voted, and it's our job to listen to you and protect Mayhem at all costs."

"Spoken like a true politician." But Jax liked what he said because, through all that hot air and cautious wording, Ethan wanted to stop selling drugs and listen to Titan.

"The Suarez cartel has agreed to meet two from Titan and two from Mayhem. That's it. Was supposed to be like this meeting. But now we have a decision." Jared cracked his knuckles. "Who's it going to be? Hawke and who?"

"Me," Johnny answered as though he'd known the question was coming.

Tex's mouth had only half opened to volunteer, and Ethan eyeballed the two men. Obviously, he wasn't going to volunteer, but there were internal politics at play.

Jared motioned Jax to the door as he stood. "We'll give you a few minutes to hammer out who."

Diplomacy 101 was boring unless a person knew the players and their gossip. Jax followed Jared out of the meeting room as tensions escalated. When the door shut, they both just shook their heads. Neither would say a word aloud—no telling if the place was bugged—but they were in agreement. Mayhem should have had their shit straight before they called in Titan. And Jax wondered if he was paranoid or if it felt as though Johnny had the bead on only one person accompanying Hawke?

The meeting-room door swung open, and Hawke and Tex stood there. "Johnny's your number-two man." Tex pushed by Jared, and Jax and didn't bother turning his head when Tex grumbled, "Don't let that greedy motherfucker screw this up."





CHAPTER NINE


Seven decided when Victoria first closed on her house that the best part about having a best friend with a cutesy house was that it made for a terrific crash pad to talk about cutesy things. Or when Mayhem life became too dark or heavy with requests she wouldn't touch, she liked to hide at Victoria's place. That same cutesy house could take the edge off of ugly topics. Anything unpleasant was made entirely bearable by Victoria's lemony-yellow wall color and white wainscoting.

Cristin Harber's Books