Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Zeke had made mental notes when he walked Ky and Ledger out to her car. His son had to sit in some sort of car seat. He asked if it was required and she informed him that it was.
He guessed his son wouldn’t be riding on the back of his sled anytime soon.
At the diner, Ledger sat in a booster seat across from him and next to Ky.
Their son chatted about everything and nothing as he ate. Zeke never saw so much chewed chicken in his life.
Zeke hardly got a word in edgewise. He sat back and carefully watched mother and son interact. How she constantly instructed him. To use his napkin. To not speak while his mouth was full. To use his inside voice. How to sit still so he wouldn’t knock over his lemonade.
Goddamn, being a parent was hard fucking work.
Ky had picked at her meal.
Ledger scarfed down most of his, then let out a big belch, making Zeke grin and Ky frown.
Zeke was too busy feasting on Ky when Ledger wasn’t pulling at his attention.
Was this what his life was going to be like? Chicken nuggets, booster seats, playgrounds, minivans, and runny noses?
Were his hell-raising days over?
Fuck that.
“Yo! Prez!”
Zeke was jerked back to the room and the club officers circling the table. Shit. They were supposed to be discussing important business.
Like starting a medical marijuana dispensary to make a shit-ton of scratch.
That thought reminded him that he had spent the last of his cash at that diner. He needed to hit up Cruz after the meeting to get access to the accounts since the club’s treasurer must have changed the passwords while Zeke was “away” on his unexpected vacation full of bars. Not the drinking type.
If he had to, he’d head over to The Iron Horse tonight after closing and clean out the till. If there wasn’t enough scratch in that, he would head over to Heaven’s Angels and hit that up after.
“All right,” he started, glancing over at his brother. “What the fuck did Lily say?”
“She looked into the legalities, the applications and the requirements. She pretty much said it’s best to start an LLC without ties to the club before applyin’.”
“She workin’ on that?”
“Told her to wait ’til we had this meetin’. No point in tyin’ up her time if this shit ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Zeke didn’t like the sound of that, but it was what it was. “But it’s doable?”
“Yeah, she thinks so. But the LLC should be squeaky clean.”
Zeke griped, “Jesus. It’s fuckin’ easier to peddle pot on the fuckin’ corner.”
“But not as profitable. Medical’s legal, recreational ain’t. Openin’ up a dispensary’s like bein’ a dealer with the backin’ of the state. No one’s goin’ to prison when they’re sellin’ legal flower.”
“‘Less they do somethin’ fuckin’ stupid,” Rage said.
“Why the fuck you lookin’ at me?” Zeke asked their sergeant at arms.
“With his record, he ain’t gonna be allowed to stick his mitts in that business,” Zane informed everyone at the table.
Wheels barked out a laugh. “Think that’s gonna stop him from doin’ somethin’ stupid?”
Zeke glanced down the table at their road captain. “Thanks for the fuckin’ vote of confidence, brother.”
Wheels shrugged. “Just callin’ it as I see it.”
Zane continued. “Not sure how many of our brothers, or prospects, are gonna be able to work there, anyway. Lily said the state reviews each applicant’s background for any past offenses.
So, they not only gotta pass our inspection, but the fuckin’ state’s.
They could be denied for prior convictions when it comes to any kinda drug offenses.
If they got some, they gotta provide proof they’re no longer involved in that shit. ”
“How the fuck you prove you’re no longer doin’ somethin’?” Chaos asked. “It’s like askin’ for proof of fuckin’ Santa or the Easter Bunny.”
“Or Sasquatch,” Wheels threw in.
“No fuckin’ idea,” Zane answered. “Guess we’ll find out if it comes down to it.”
“Just gotta be real goddamn picky ‘bout who’s workin’ there as budtenders,” Rage said. “When it comes to our members, we know who got a fuckin’ record and who don’t. Could always get Vi to run some background checks before hirin’ any outside employees so we don’t waste our fuckin’ time.”
“True that,” Zane said.
“Yeah, that sounds like a plan,” Zeke said next.
If it was up to him, he wouldn’t have any outside employees. They needed to trust anyone working there one hundred fucking percent. That was the main reason they tried to fill their businesses with the DAMC members and family.
By only working for the club businesses, that also meant the members were filling the DAMC’s coffers with more than only dues. Doing that benefitted them all.
Especially their prez with a kid to support.
Even though Ky hadn’t mentioned scratch yet, Zeke figured that was coming soon. But even if she didn’t bring it up, his kid would want for fucking nothing.
“There’s always the women. None of them, ‘cept my sister, got any kinda fuckin’ record.” Chaos then added, “That I know of, anyway.”
True. Bri had a record but she was the only one Zeke knew of, unless they hid it.
But Beck’s sister—along with Zane—ran the pawn shop like it was her own and she also got to live in the upstairs apartment rent-free.
It was a goddamn win-win situation for both her and the club.
The woman had some great business skills.
Zeke turned his attention to Cruz next, since he was the club treasurer. A dispensary wouldn’t happen at all if they couldn’t afford to open one. “Think we can swing it scratch-wise?”
Cruz sat back and scratched the back of his neck. “That type of business ain’t no joke. Gonna cost a shitload of scratch before we’re even making a fucking dime. If the state even approves our application.”
Zeke didn’t like the sound of that. “What kinda scratch we talkin’?”
“The application fee’s five fucking grand and, worse, it’s non-fucking-refundable. So we gotta make sure we got every fucking T crossed and I dotted before applying cause that’ll be a helluva hit.”
“Fuck,” just about everyone at the table groaned at the same time.
“That ain’t the worst of it. Permit fee’s thirty big ones.”
Zeke just about choked. “Thirty? What the actual fuck?”
“Yeah. And that’s just the state fees,” Cruz said. “We ain’t even talking the cost of the building, the inventory, employees, and all the rest. At least the thirty K’s refundable.”
“Well, thank fuck for that,” Zeke muttered.
“Also need to prove we have one-hundred-fifty large in capital,” Cruz finished.
“Sounds like the easiest shit on the list,” Zane said.
The club owned plenty of buildings and property. Not to mention the whole damn DAMC old folks village. The OGs owned their own houses, but the club owned the land under them to keep it a restricted neighborhood. Like one of those pain-in-the-ass homeowners associations but biker style.
Not just anyone could live behind those gates and walls. For obvious reasons.
“Depends,” Cruz said. “Agree with Lily about starting an LLC. And it’ll be smart to put it under one of the women’s names. The state ain’t gonna approve shit if it’s directly tied to the club.”
“A new LLC ain’t gonna have that much in capital,” Zane mentioned.
“It could,” Cruz countered. “Just have to transfer a business over.”
“What business?”
All eyes turned to Zeke at the head of the table. He considered everything Cruz and Zane just laid out. He hated that they might have to leave it in one of the women’s hands, but it might be the only choice.
Otherwise, they had to come up with another idea. And he really fucking liked the idea of a dispensary. Once the state legalized pot for recreational use, they’d already have their fucking boots in the door.
“Which club sister do we trust the most?” Zeke asked the table.
“If we’re talkin’ ‘bout the women we grew up with, then all of ‘em,” Zane answered. “Can’t trust any outsiders to not screw over the club.”
At least he and his brother agreed on that. The rest of the officers at that table probably did, too.
“Know it ain’t gonna be Vi, Indie, or Scarlet since they gotta keep on the down low,” Rage said.
Wheels added, “Scarlet’s outta pocket, anyway.”
Vi’s youngest sister was still in the Army National Guard and would be for a while, but then, she had been determined to become a Guard Green Beret and, damn if she didn’t manage to pull it the fuck off.
Zeke had no problem admitting all three of Diesel’s daughters were badasses, but then they grew up and trained with the baddest badasses of all time: the original Shadows.
“What about Lyric?” Zane asked after a solid minute of silence around the table. “Then we can put the tattoo shop under the LLC. Won’t be as controversial as the strip club, the gun shop, or even the pawn shop.”
“Or Piper and the gym,” Wheels suggested.
“How about both?” Cruz asked. “That’d give us plenty of capital between those two businesses.”
“Think they’d agree?”
Rage answered Chaos’s question with one of his own. “They got a fuckin’ choice?”
Rage already knew the answer to his question, but Zeke answered it anyway to make sure everyone at that table was clear about that point.
“Fuck no. The men make the fuckin’ decisions when it comes to this goddamn club.
Some of you keep forgettin’ that. My bitch-ass brother was pickin’ up lunch for Bri like she got his nuts in a vice. ”
Cruz hooted. “‘Cause Chill wants what’s down her fucking pants.”
“No shit,” Wheels exclaimed. “If she told Chill to bend over so she could peg him, he probably would.”
Everyone laughed except for Zane and Chaos, Bri’s twin.
“For fuck’s sake, talkin’ ‘bout my goddamn sister,” Chaos barked. “Don’t need that fuckin’ nightmare in my head.”
Zeke snorted. “Same with me ‘bout my baby brother.” But he was more amused than disgusted since he actually agreed with Wheels.
His brother had been lusting over Bri for a damn while. Zane could deny it all he fucking wanted but it was too damn obvious.