23. Crow
CHAPTER 23
CROW
Son. Of. A. Fucking. Bitch!
“I’m surprised you made it.”
I climb off my Harley and glare at Journey. We’ve had this meeting set for a few days, and nothing was going to keep me away. Not even a naked Addison begging me to stay in bed with her.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“You know you’re wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday,” my VP comments, his tone conversational.
“I know.”
“And why are you wearing the same?—”
“I stayed at Addison’s place last night,” I snap. “Now can we focus on the business at hand and gossip like schoolgirls later?”
“Sure, whatever you want, Pres.”
“Don’t be such a smart ass.”
I stride away from him to enter the little dive bar where we agreed to meet the new President and Vice President of Limitless Throttle. It’s farther away than I’d like to be, but it’s better than the warehouse. It took some convincing on their part, but I finally chose to give them the benefit of the doubt that they really believe we had nothing to do with the deaths of their brothers.
“There they are,” Journey says and leads the way to the booth in the back corner.
“Glad you could make it,” one of them says as we sit across from them. “I’m Shuffle, the new Pres. And this is Bear, my VP.”
“I’m Crow, and this is Journey,” I reply, pointing to my brother.
“As I said on the phone, we know your club didn’t have anything to do with killing Snap, Trick, and Forge,” Shuffle explains. “Snap was smart enough to have men posted outside for that meeting, and they all reported seeing a single white male enter the warehouse and leave with blood on his clothes before you even arrived.”
“I’m guessing none of them told that to the cops because we’re still considered suspects,” Journey snaps.
“Actually, they did. The detective took their statements, and we assumed that would be the end of it. I’m sorry that hasn’t been the case.”
“We don’t need your apology. We need the record set straight.”
“And we’ll do whatever we can to help with that.” Shuffle leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Rival or not, we don’t condone putting men behind bars for crimes they didn’t commit.”
“Right,” I drawl. “And I’m supposed to believe you’ve got nothing but well wishes for us?”
“Look, we’d love nothing more than to run the Soulless Kings out of Marble Falls and be the only game in town,” Bear admits. “But after a lot of discussion amongst our brothers, we feel like our clubs working together would be much more mutually beneficial.”
“More financially lucrative, you mean,” Journey states.
Shuffle shrugs. “Either way, we both win.”
“What are you proposing?” I ask.
“We’d like to take the gun business out of your hands, and if you agree to that, we’ll stay out of the drug trade.”
Journey and I exchange a look. We’ve also discussed our rival at length as a club, and came up with a few proposals of our own.
“You open to a counteroffer?” I ask.
“Depends.”
“We still maintain our position as the leading supplier for both guns and drugs, and Limitless Throttle handles all distribution,” Journey proposes. “Because you’ll be the ones on the streets taking the day-to-day risk, we’ll cut you in at forty percent of the profits.”
Shuffle raises a brow skeptically. “That’s quite a bit higher than the standard profit share.”
“It is.”
“Does that offer have anything to do with the woman in your life, Crow?”
It shouldn’t surprise me that they know about Addison, but if they think they can use her against me, they’ve got another thing comin’.
“Leave her outta this,” I snarl. “Mention her name again, and we take our offer elsewhere.”
Shuffle lifts his hands in surrender. “I meant no disrespect, really. But I know for a fact that you weren’t anywhere close to willing to make that kinda deal with my predecessor. Makes a man wonder, is all.”
“Wonder all you want, but Addison isn’t fair game.” I lean forward and clasp my hands on the table. “In fact, if we’re going to make a partnership like this work, then I stipulate that no violence is to take place between the two clubs unless war is declared by the presidents.”
Now it’s Shuffle and Bear’s turn to exchange a look. When they return their attention to me, they both nod.
“Agreed.”
“Good.” I extend my hand, and Shuffle shakes it. Journey and Bear do the same. “Now, before we go, I want the description of the man seen at the warehouse that day. I’ll take it to my contact and see if he’ll get things going in the right direction.”
“Like I said, it was a white male,” Shuffle begins. “Approximately six foot one, late fifties, rumpled suit and tie…” He glances at Bear. “Anything else?”
“When he opened the door, one of our men swore he saw a tattoo on his forearm. He also had dress shoes on, but they weren’t the expensive kind. Definitely department store quality and very worn.”
Son. Of. A. Fucking. Bitch!