Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Maddox
My knuckles turn white as my grip on the steering wheel tightens, and I stare out the windshield at the iron gates that line the perimeter of the property, creating a fortress around the Fallen Demons clubhouse.
“What the fuck am I doing?” I murmur to myself, my gaze tracking all the motorcycles parked beyond the gates.
I wait for my conscience to kick in, for that little voice to demand I turn my truck around, but it doesn’t sound.
It doesn’t even make a peep. It’s like my conscience has come to peace with the notion that I am about to sell my soul to the devil himself, and instead of talking myself out of it, I tell myself there’s no other choice.
Granddaddy forced this upon me when he signed that fucking will, giving my sister half of everything I worked for. All the blood, sweat, and tears. The fucking sacrifices I made. It was all for nothing. I always thought he favored her, and today the reading of his will confirmed those thoughts.
It took every ounce of self-control to walk out of my office and brave a friendly face to the people who gathered at the house.
I took their condolences with a grain of salt, and when they praised my grandfather, I nodded in solidarity when all I really wanted to do was throw everyone out.
I wanted to shout that he was a fraud and make them all aware of the way he betrayed me.
By the time the last guest left the ranch, my anger had morphed into something deeper. Something dark and disturbing. I realized I didn’t give a fuck about making my granddaddy proud anymore. Nor did I care about preserving his legacy.
It was time for me to become selfish.
Time to put me and my needs above everyone else’s.
Call it a reckoning if you will.
I poured myself a drink and called Shadow. I asked him if he meant what he said the other night at Rodeo Roundup—if his club was serious about expanding its portfolio. He said yes, and I asked for a meeting with his president.
I didn’t expect him to call me back fifteen minutes later, requesting I meet him here to sit down with Lucifer, the president of the Fallen Demons MC, but life always did move faster beyond the gates in front of me than it did anywhere else.
My phone rings, interrupting my thoughts, and my gaze cuts to the screen on the dashboard. Accepting the call from Shadow, I lean back in my leather seat.
“Hey,” I rasp.
“You plan on sitting out there all night, or should I have one of the prospects open the gate for you?”
I shake my head at that. It shouldn’t surprise me that he knows I’m here. They’ve got cameras everywhere.
“Sorry,” I grunt. “It’s been a long day.”
“You having second thoughts?”
“No,” I reply. I think that’s the problem, but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I ask him to open the gate, and park in the first available spot before disconnecting the call.
Grabbing the folder from the passenger seat that contains all the ranch’s financial records, I get out of my truck.
A few of the guys Shadow calls his brothers meander outside the clubhouse.
I acknowledge them with a curt nod, and one of them offers me a joint, which I politely decline—although, I’m not so sure why.
I could use something to take the edge off.
Shadow exits the clubhouse, and we head for a trailer at the other end of the property.
As we reach the trailer, Shadow explains Lucifer prefers to talk business where he is less likely to be interrupted or distracted, and that he acquired the trailer specifically for meetings with legitimate business partners.
“It’s a work in progress,” he adds. “So don’t mind the mess.”
Once inside, my gaze instantly sweeps around the room. He wasn’t kidding about the mess. There are cans of paint and tarps all over the room, and the only furniture is a card table and some folding chairs, one of which is occupied by Lucifer.
He stands and offers me his tattooed hand.
“Mr. Do The Right Thing,” he drawls, the corners of his mouth curving slightly. Amusement flickers in his light eyes as they assess me.
Keeping my expression neutral, I shake his hand, my grip firm.
“I prefer Maddox.”
He raises an eyebrow and pulls his hand away. “I’ll try to remember that.”
I haven’t had too many interactions with Lucifer, and I don’t make a habit of listening to people when they talk shit about him.
Opinions are like assholes and everyone’s got one.
But I can’t get a read on him. I don’t know if he’s a sarcastic motherfucker on the regular or if this is a tactic of his.
I guess I’m about to find out.
He tips his chin toward one of the folding chairs. “Take a seat,” he says as he lowers his tall frame back into his chair. Reaching into his leather cut, he takes out a pack of smokes. “I’d offer you my condolences, but I’m guessing you’ve heard enough of that.”
“Yeah, I’ve had my fill.” I sit and drop the folder onto the table.
“I gave Lucifer the watered-down version of what we were discussing the other night,” Shadow says as he plops his ass in the chair next to me. “I figured you could plead your case better than me, anyway.”
Something about that last sentence gives me pause. I didn’t realize I’d have to plead anything. I thought this was a sure deal. The club needed a business to invest in, and I needed a Hail Mary.
Swiping my hands over my jeans, I turn my attention from Shadow to Lucifer.
“Well, as it turns out, I got some news today that changes things since Shadow and I spoke.”
Slipping a cigarette between his lips, he pats the front of his vest. A moment later he pulls a lighter out from one of his pockets. “Shadow mentioned you had a visitor from Landry Oil. Don’t tell me he showed up at your doorstep again.”
I shake my head as he lights his cigarette. “No, that remains the same. Landry is still looking to buy my land, but today I learned it’s not just my land. My grandfather left the ranch to me and my sister. As it stands, she retains fifty percent of everything, which means I need to buy her out.”
Shadow lets out a low whistle.
“That certainly changes things,” Lucifer says. “Is she willing to sell?”
My hands go still on top of my thighs, and my jaw tightens.
“Della has no use for the ranch. It’s a fucking joke that he even left her any part of it.
She deserted the place years ago to make a better life for herself.
I doubt she wants to trade in her designer clothes for overalls, and mucking stalls really ain’t her thing.
” I lean forward. “I’ve been working my ass off to expand the ranch, but I keep taking blow after blow.
The property taxes alone are killing me.
” I push the folder toward him. “All my financials are in there, along with the business plan I’ve been trying to implement. ”
He flicks his cigarette and takes the folder. Opening it, he flips through the papers, pausing to read some more thoroughly than others.
“Is this right? You just purchased a new herd of cattle?”
“Yes,” I say. “And I was hoping to purchase some bison too.”
Lucifer’s eyes lift and lock with mine. “Big money in that.”
“There’s big money in a lot of things. It’s executing them that’s the problem.”
“You ever consider wholesale distribution or a farm to table type of operation?”
“Man, I’ve considered everything. There’s a nice open area on the other side of the pasture that I wanted to use to open a restaurant.
You’ll find a bunch of quotes from different contractors in that folder.
I even scouted some chefs I thought would be a good fit.
I got the ideas, and the will. I need the capital. ”
He considers my words for a moment before drawing his attention back to the records. After he’s looked over everything, he snuffs out his cigarette and leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head.
“According to the last property assessment, you need $ 3.5 million just to buy your sister out, and that doesn’t even begin to solve your problems. Now, I see a lot of potential in Meadows Ranch, but it’s going to take a big chunk of change to turn this shit around, and if you ain’t willing to have your sister as a partner, I gotta guess you’re not going to be too willing to take on my club as one either. ”
“With all due respect, Lucifer, you got it wrong. My sister didn’t earn a stake in what I’ve kept going for the last three years. The only thing I want is to save my ranch, and I’m willing to do whatever the fuck that takes.”
“So what you’re telling me is that you would relinquish forty percent ownership to the Fallen Demons and change the name from Meadows Ranch to Fallen Meadows Ranch?”
Stunned at what he’s suggesting, I try to control my features, but I don’t know that I do such a good job, especially when Lucifer shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Hold on a second,” I say. “Why the hell do we have to change the name?”
“Brother, money is a problem for you, yeah, but if you think that’s your only problem, you’re fucked.
Landry Oil is one of the biggest oil refinery companies in the industry.
If they want your land, they are going to find a way to take it.
But you know that already, or you wouldn’t be here.
The name changes to Fallen Meadows because the Fallen Demons are the only thing that’s going to stand in the way of that happening.
We protect our investments, and should your ranch become one of them, then the whole fucking world is going to know every fucking acre is off limits. ”
What he’s saying makes sense. The Fallen Demons are feared, no one on the right side of the law wants to fuck with them, but that doesn’t make any of what he’s saying easier to digest.
“I like the idea of a restaurant, but you’re going to need a lot more working capital. You could probably cut costs if you get someone to process the meat on the ranch.” He glances at Shadow. “We can call the butcher, get his take on it.”
“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” Shadow agrees.
My gaze bounces from Shadow to Lucifer. How we jumped from changing the name of my ranch to hiring a butcher, I don’t know.
“You’re telling me you just happen to have a butcher on hand?”
I mean I guess it’s possible with them being silent partners in The Hideaway, but I don’t think a restaurant like that sources meat from a private butcher.
“If we’re going to work together, you should probably get into the habit of asking yourself if you really want to know the answers to the questions you’re asking before you ask ‘em.” He pushes out of his chair.
“I think you need to take some time and think about all we’ve discussed here tonight.
” He straightens out the papers, tucking them neatly inside the folder.
“Is it okay if I hang on to these? I’d like to show them to my accountant and have him work out the numbers before I present any of this to the club. ”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Yeah, sure.”
“Shadow will be in touch in a day or two. If the club agrees, we’ll present an offer, and you can decide who you would rather work with—a group of outlaws willing to kill anyone who tries to take your land or your sister, who ran away from it.”
Not much to decide when he puts it like that.
And Fallen Meadows Ranch does have a nice ring to it.