Chapter 61
CHAPTER
SIXTY-ONE
DARE
Cake sends his sons out of the room, and I have to wonder what the fuck is coming next. If we go to blows, I can’t even begin to guess who would win.
“Sit,” he barks.
I don’t do a fucking thing. I stand where I am, ready to do what needs to be done, though I honestly can’t imagine two presidents going at it. I’ve known him for decades and respected him just as many years.
“Just sit, Amos.”
“My real name? Must be serious,” I murmur as I walk over to the chair that’s across from him.
Sinking down, I cross one ankle over my knee and lean back slightly. We stare at one another for a moment, unmoving, unwavering, as I wait for him to continue. He leans back in his own chair, his gaze focusing on mine.
“What are their terms?” he asks.
“Terms?”
He hums. “I might want to fly off the handle, but I don’t think that’s the wisest decision.
We’ve all been giving this a lot more headspace than it deserves, I think.
A partnership might not be a bad thing. I’d rather have shit in writing—signed, sealed and delivered—than sitting around waiting for an atomic fucking bomb to explode around me. ”
Instead of agreeing with him, because honestly, I feel the same fucking way, I decide to go over the terms. They are simple but still a lot more than he would be willing to give them. Unfolding my leg, I bend slightly and place my forearms on my knees before I continue.
“I’m not sure what the fuck you’re gonna say.
But they love what we’re doing in Vegas.
They want to extend that to encompass all the areas they have operations in.
Dallas, Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, mainly major cities.
They want us to collect their loan payments, which has turned into us being able to contract for new jobs.
It’s worked out well. Everything is a fixed payment. ”
Cake chuckles, then he leans back slightly, his eyes searching mine before he speaks. “But there’s more.”
“There’s more,” I murmur.
“They want us to transport women for them.”
He sucks in a breath and holds it for a moment before he lets it out slowly and stands. I watch as he walks around the desk, then over to the window. I know it looks out at the building where he takes care of people who need to be taken care of.
“Women,” he murmurs. “We don’t do that.”
“I know,” I state. “They don’t want you to get any. No kidnapping or anything. They’re all willing. They just want you to move them from one city to another.”
He hums but doesn’t immediately agree or disagree. He watches me, tilting his head to the side, and waits for me to continue. “Collect money, create your own contracts, and transport women.”
“No drugs?” he asks.
My lips twitch into a smirk. “That’s what I thought it would be, but no. No drugs. They know that’s a hard line.”
“But women aren’t?”
“They are,” I murmur. “But I thought since they’re willing, it wouldn’t be too bad.”
“Slippery slope,” he grunts.
I agree, but I’m not sure what the fuck to say about it. Not like I can dictate what the fuck the club does when it comes to the Russians.
“And the partnership?” Cake asks.
“They want all our clubs to do the collections across the country. Then they want the girls. That’s all I know so far. The contract will have to be specific,” I say.
He nods a couple of times. “Very specific,” he agrees with me before he continues. “And the Russians don’t want anything else? Just that?”
I honestly have no fucking clue what they want. But that’s all they’re asking for, which, honest to fuck, is all that is needed. It’s plenty of fucking work and a hell of a lot of scheduling.
“It is. My boys won’t be happy,” Cake murmurs.
I’m sure they won’t. “If we’re not careful, we’ll be in a full-blown war. I don’t want that, and I don’t think you do, either,” I say.
“Agreed,” he murmurs. “No wars.”
I press my lips together, and at the same time, Cake takes his phone out of his pocket. His gaze flicks to mine, and he tilts his head to the side. He watches me for a moment, then he snorts before he speaks.
“So I guess we’re doing this?” he asks. “Much to my boys’ dismay, I’m sure.”
I have no doubt that Piston and Clutch are going to lose their ever-loving shit. I begin to stand, but he shakes his head, his eyes focusing on mine for a long moment, then he clears his throat before speaking.
“Be ready for war at any fucking minute,” he begins. “I’ll call Rustik, but be ready. And Dare?” he calls out.
“Yeah?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything else.
“Get my daughter and bring her home.”
“Home?” I ask. “I need a definition of home.”
Cake lets out a chuckle, then a grunt. “What do you want the definition to be?”
I can’t tell him that I’ve fallen madly in love with his daughter. This relationship was supposed to be fake as fuck, but it’s definitely completely fucking real.
I press my lips together, trying to decide how in the hell I’m going to tell him that Chassis is mine without letting him know that I’m fucking his daughter.
“My home. Where she belongs. Chassis is my wife.”
And she is.
Mine.
All fucking mine.
“Go and get her, Dare.”