Chapter 1 #2
There was a lot of muttering and cursing at my answer.
This news didn’t bode well. It meant that we’d have to get our tech, Crypto, to work on finding the answer.
If Arturo had told the truth, we would have had to figure out why the Jacquots wanted us out of the picture and take steps to rectify it.
Those steps would more than likely mean their death.
It was rare that a move like this would end in anything less than death.
However, until we had all our information and I’d talked to Big Daddy, we’d sit back and not say a word.
Let them think that Arturo was unsuccessful, and our club was clueless.
“Blood, get this cleaned up. Use as many as you need. I want this place to be spotless. You know what to do,” I stated unnecessarily.
Blood was our club cleaner. It meant he was in charge of cleaning up the dead bodies and more when we had one of these things happen.
He didn’t do it alone. He had club brothers, prospects, and others to help.
He ensured those outside the club did their jobs and kept their traps shut.
If they didn’t, then they would die. I knew I could count on him to make this mess disappear.
As I made my way to my bike, I wondered what Scythe would say about this.
Whatever it was, it would be colorful, and my solution would likely make that sadistic bastard smile.
Damn, I missed him. All those years he was in exile, and I had no idea where he went, had been bad.
However, even now, after starting this chapter at his request, I still liked to catch up with my old friend whenever possible.
???
I leaned back in my chair, put my feet on the corner of my desk, and crossed them at the ankles.
I sipped the whiskey in the glass resting on that same desk.
It burned all the way down. So good. We’d been back at the clubhouse for over an hour.
I had things to take care of before I was free to make the call.
I picked up my phone. I needed to talk to my friend.
It rang four times, and I thought I’d have to leave a voicemail when it was picked up.
“Look who the hell is calling me. Christ, has the world ended?” Elliot Johansen’s rough voice asked. There was a touch of humor in it. I knew he was smiling that smile of his. The real one had only returned after meeting his old lady, Sofia.
“Damn right, it has. Why else would I call a crazy bastard like you?” I barked.
“Because you’re the one who burned it down, and you need bail money. Why else? Goddamn, it’s good to hear your voice, brother. How’s Nebraska treating you? Still okay up there? Are you calling to ask to come home?” he asked.
“Brother, I love Ohio and you guys there, but I’m good where I’m at. I like to be in charge. You and the others have things handled. Besides, you haven’t lived until you’ve done a real winter. It’ll put some hair on your ass,” I told him.
He laughed. “No thanks, my woman likes my ass hairless. What kinda women are you finding up there that like a hairy-assed man? Should we send you a waxing kit?” he joked.
“Fuck you. No one is getting near me or my ass with one of those things. That shit is barbaric. And the women are alright, just not Ohio women. Hope all’s well with you, the club, and that sweet-ass woman of yours that’s too good for you,” I prodded.
“Everything is great. And if you wanna stay that way, don’t be talking about my woman’s ass, even though it is damn sweet.”
I heard laughter in the background, then Sofia’s voice. “Thank you, Tyrant. Love and miss you.”
“Love you too, babe. Dump his ass and come north,” I teased. I knew he’d tell her what I said, which he did. She giggled.
Johansen and very few others were the only ones who saw a softer side to me.
Most of the brothers who followed me here had no idea.
Sofia had made me show it to her without my permission.
She never let me hide again when she found it, though she was careful never to make me show it around others. She was a great old lady.
“Okay, I know you called for a better reason than you wanted to make me kill you for trying to steal away my woman. What’s going on, Rant?”
I couldn’t get anything by him. I hadn’t since we were both kids. I sighed. “We had an issue with a delivery tonight.”
“Go on,” he said when I paused.
I went over the contact details, how they hooked up with us, and what Arturo and his men pulled. Johansen swore when he heard that part. He swore even louder and longer when I told him what Arturo said about the Jacquot family.
“Jesus Christ! And you think he could be telling the truth?” He asked even though I’d already told him I didn’t know positively, but felt there was a damn good chance he had.
“I do.”
“And the Jacquots didn’t indicate they were unhappy with your partnership or anything?”
“Not a word. I know we haven’t been here long, but unlike others, it’s been smooth sailing with them.
They’ve never quibbled about the price or frequency of deliveries.
Whatever we ask for, they find. It’s been great.
If Arturo was right, then this came out of nowhere, and we’ve got to not only figure out why but also handle it so no one else thinks they can pull the same fucking crap on us.
If I find the Jacquots did us dirty, they’ll be made to suffer and be an example no one will ever forget,” I snarled.
No one double-crossed my club or me, or hurt my brothers.
“I don’t need to ask if you’ve got Crypto working on it. I know you. And since I do, as hard as it may be, don’t go off on anyone until you know for sure and a plan is in place,” he cautioned me.
I could be somewhat of a hothead. My past made me that way. Over the years, I’d found control with age, though my methods had become bloodier.
“I’ve grown much calmer in my old age,” I told him.
“Old age! You’re only two years older than me, asshole. And I can tell you, I’m not old. Shit. I should kick your goddamn ass for even suggesting that,” he muttered.
I chuckled. I said it to rile him up. “You’re so easy, Elliot.”
“So are you, Killian, so are you. Let me know if you need help of any kind. If you need help, we can see about sending men from down here. All you have to do is ask.”
“I know, and if it looks like that’s what we need, I’ll let you know. But I prefer handling shit myself if we can. Don’t want the guys to get used to having others cover our asses. It makes them sloppy and lazy.”
He was the one to chuckle this time. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Well, consider me informed and ready if need be. Now, let’s talk about something else. I’ve heard enough about work today from all around.”
This suggestion led us just to shoot the shit and talk about the old days when his dad was alive.
There were some sweet memories mixed in with the painful ones.
By the time we hung up, we were current.
Sometimes, we’d go a few months between calls.
Other times, it might be a week. It just depended on what he had going on or what I did.
It was late. I should be in bed, but I was too wound up to sleep.
I could grab one of the cumsluts and go a round or two, but that didn’t appeal to me.
Drinking until I passed out had never been my way.
I drank a little here and there, but I was careful not to go too far. With my history, it wasn’t smart.
Most of the guys would be in bed. Tomorrow was a workday, and then it would be time to start the weekend. Doing a drop on a Thursday night wasn’t unheard of. We varied them, so there was no pattern. If the cops got onto us, we wanted them to have no idea when or where we did it.
The police suspected we weren’t clean, and they’d love nothing more than to arrest every last damn one of us.
The chief of police, D’Angelo, hated our guts, and his dream was to build a RICO case with the Feds against us.
So far, he had been stonewalled at every turn, making him madder and hate us more.
I loved it when we foiled his attempts. He’d get this enraged look.
We waved and smiled whenever we spotted him or one of his officers in town.
I had news for D’Angelo. We could be a helluva lot worse, and there were those around who were.
Besides not having anything to do with human trafficking, we didn’t force anyone to be a prostitute.
That wasn’t to say that we didn’t sell sex.
We did, but the women and men weren’t coerced in any way, and we made sure they were paid and protected.
Those who provided the service to clients did so in a clean, pleasant environment with on-site security.
If someone got rough or wouldn’t take no for an answer, such as wanting something our people hadn’t agreed to, they merely pressed a button, and their protection appeared.
We ran a strip club. It wasn’t a seedy one.
We had some of the best-looking and most incredible dancers there were.
We paid them well, and it was a mutually beneficial relationship.
If any of them wanted to do extra work and give someone more than a lap dance, then they could, and we’d take our cut, but it was still a much smaller one than a pimp would.
Some were only dancers, bartenders, or waitresses, and we had no problem with that.
We got questions about why we had specific times that included male dancers.
We answered that we were equal-opportunity kinda businessmen.
Both sexes deserved to watch what they loved and to have sex with whomever they wanted.
We didn’t deal in hard drugs. It was something we didn’t want to get our hands dirty with.
We sold weed, which was now legal in Nebraska for specific medical conditions only.
We sold it to those who couldn’t get a card.
Of course, buying and selling guns, especially straw buying, was illegal.
We hired out as personal protection, though we kept it legal by not doing collections or enforcement for anyone.
We were there to play bodyguard. Our garage was a legitimate business, but the chop shop we ran wasn’t.
We didn’t steal the vehicles. We just used the parts or sold them to others who needed them.
The final two club businesses were our moonshine production and gambling.
Both were very illegal. It was ridiculous for the government to say it was unlawful.
You could buy regular liquor and cigarettes with no problem, but then most states and the federal government said no to weed sales, gambling, and moonshine.
A lottery was okay, but other forms of gambling were not.
The issue was that the government hadn’t figured out how to get their cut of it, so they made shit illegal.
Our stills were well out of the way of others, and you’d have to find them first. We didn’t make tremendous amounts, but for those who wanted the real thing, not the bullshit kind sold in stores, they knew they could get it for a price.
As for the gambling, ours was a roving casino in the back of an eighteen-wheeler to reduce the chance of being caught.
Only by invitation would someone know where the truck would be on any given night.
If a current customer wanted to invite someone, they had to let the club know in advance, and only after a rigorous background check and approval were given were they added.
If they blabbed or tried to bring in the cops, the person who brought them forward would be eliminated along with the newbie.
It ensured that no one offered up a potential customer without knowing they would keep their mouth shut and weren’t law enforcement.
It was the same with the weed and moonshine businesses. It was harder to do with prostitution.
Rubbing my forehead to try to relieve the tension headache, I dropped my legs and stood.
I needed to get my ass to bed. I had work in a few hours.
I expected my brothers to work regardless of how tired they were.
There was no way I wouldn’t. I strolled down the long hallway of the clubhouse.
Everyone here had a room. As president, I was more fortunate.
The club’s officers and I each had townhomes near the clubhouse.
I had my primary office in the clubhouse.
It wasn’t a far walk to my place through the cool night.
Walking inside, I shed my boots and colors.
It was more room than one person needed, but I enjoyed the solitude.
A hot shower and a few hours of sleep, and I’d be good.