Chapter 3
Baddy had barely stepped through the clubhouse doors when he heard his name barked across the main room.
"Office. Now."
Kodiak Black rarely raised his voice, but when he did, it cut through the music, laughter, and clatter of bottles. Baddy pushed past a few prospects sweeping up last night's mess and headed down the hall.
Light spilled out in a thin line across the floor from the office. Baddy knocked once and stepped inside.
Kodiak sat behind the scarred wooden desk, elbows planted, fingers steepled. His dark hair was pulled back, jaw tight, eyes sharp in a way that told Baddy this wasn't going to be a casual conversation.
"Close it," Kodiak said.
Baddy shut the door and crossed his arms. "What's going on?"
Kodiak exhaled through his nose. A breath filled with annoyance and resignation. "Cusclan got a hold of me late last night."
Baddy's brows lifted. "Yeah? Thought they wanted nothing to do with our proposal."
"They changed their mind." Kodiak frowned. "They want to accept the deal."
"The hell they do." Baddy pushed off the door. "Why not say that to our faces?"
No matter the motorcycle club, all business was done face-to-face and closed with a handshake once an agreement was made.
"They want twenty percent profit," Kodiak added.
Baddy scoffed so hard it came out like a laugh. "Twenty? They're out of their damn minds. Ten is customary. Always has been."
"I know." Kodiak rubbed a hand over his beard. "But I discussed this with Cruz before I called you into the office. The buyback for parts is hot right now. Real hot. We're making more than six times what we did last year for the same amount of shipments."
That gave Baddy pause. Six times. That wasn't only profit—that was a gold rush.
Kodiak watched him, waiting for the numbers to settle in. "So, the question is... does Royalla accept the deal?"
Baddy paced once. His boots thunked against the concrete floor.
"I don't like fucking dealing with Cusclan.
Nothing good ever comes from them. They're sloppy.
Greedy. And it looks like they've started to drag kids around like accessories.
" His jaw tightened at the memory of the girl's helmet snapping sideways under that man's ring.
"But money like that? Hard to walk away from. "
Kodiak nodded slowly. "The last thing I want is another club making that much off one of our deals.
But I can't turn it away. Not with the kind of cash this could bring in.
Our club is getting bigger. Only so many of the members can work in the garage.
Only those with seniority and trust can work on the shipments.
But men are standing behind each one of us, putting their lives on the line to make Royalla succeed.
Their protection comes with a cost, and we could pay every one of them more money than they've seen in years if we take the deal. "
Baddy stopped pacing. "What's the catch?"
Kodiak leaned back in his chair. "We put a cap on the agreement. One year. That's it. Next June, Cusclan is done. They don't get another damn dollar from us."
Baddy considered it. A year was long enough to make a fortune and short enough to keep Cusclan from getting too comfortable. "You think they'll go for it?"
"They already did." Kodiak's mouth twisted. "They're desperate. And desperate men agree to anything."
Baddy grunted. "Then what do you need from me?"
Kodiak stood, grabbing his vest from the back of the chair. "I want you riding with me. Cruz, Hunter, Duke. We're heading out to finalize things."
"When?"
"An hour."
Baddy blinked. "An hour? You planning on giving me time to breathe, or is that optional now?"
Kodiak's eyes narrowed with amusement. "You'll live."
Baddy didn't argue. He turned toward the door, but Kodiak's voice stopped him.
"And Baddy?"
He looked back.
"Keep your head straight. Cusclan's unpredictable. Expect them to try to pull something over on us. I don't want any surprises."
Baddy nodded once. "I'll be ready."
He stepped out of the office and let the door click shut behind him.
This wasn't a new direction for Royalla.
They'd been stealing car parts for years while holding down the legal custom detailing business in the garage on the compound.
But involving others rubbed him wrong. He wasn't one to trust anyone who didn't wear a Royalla patch.
The higher the risk, the more likely he'd end up in prison, again.
Twenty percent. Fucking hell.
He headed to the bar inside the clubhouse, needing some caffeine before they rode out. The clubhouse was buzzing. Those staying behind had no idea the rules had changed.
Once a month from here on out, he'd be riding out with the others to meet the Cusclan members.
He couldn't shake the image of that girl shrinking under the blow.
Royalla had a reputation, too, but none of the men were allowed to hit a woman. Years back, they had one member, a young kid, really. He got rough with his girlfriend and bragged about it. They ripped off his patch and shot the fucker in the forehead.
Kodiak, and before him, Kodiak's dad, didn't tolerate women beaters or men who hurt children.
Cusclan was trouble. Everyone knew it. But now Royalla was tied to them for a year.
A year was a long damn time for trouble to grow.
Baddy picked up the coffee pot. Shit. It was empty. He grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge and opened it, taking a long drink. The cold hit his chest.
An hour.
He'd be on the road again soon, riding straight toward the same men who thought bringing a kid to a deal was normal. He hoped like hell the kids' mom kept the girl home and away from the riders.
He set the bottle down and headed across the room. Cruz joined him, and he held the door open. Outside, Duke slapped Hunter and pointed toward Baddy. The other two men walked to their motorcycles. Having already gassed up earlier, he was ready whenever Kodiak wanted to go.
"Got your piece?" asked Cruz, the vice president.
He pulled back his vest, showing his nine-millimeter. The others followed suit, even Hunter, who'd followed the conversation, even though he was deaf.
Whatever waited out there, they were ready.
But something told him this deal—this whole fucking year—was going to be different.
And not in a good way.