Chapter 2
TWO
MAVERICK
As always, traffic in downtown Atlanta is congested.
Choosing to spend an extra hour with Ember means arriving late for my meeting.
My wife assumes my weekends away are work-related, which in a way they are – just not the type of work she knows about.
Finally reaching the exit from the interstate, I head to the Royal Bastards base located in Southwest Atlanta also known as the SWAT.
This is where I grew up and formed strong bonds with my fellow club members.
We weren’t supposed to amount to shit but my father taught us that although we are the baddest fuckers around, we have to be the smartest too.
Strength paired with intelligence meant that no one could fuck with us on any level.
Thomas Bouvier ensured that I was educated and made my own money.
An MC with no resources is just a bunch of pussy ass men that meet up for shits and giggles.
Being part of the Bastards means you are part of a tight-knit family.
We look out for one another and our deep connection sends a shiver down the spines of our enemies, of which there are many.
Our loyalty is unmatched and we never abandon a brother in need.
This is the side of me that Ember doesn’t know.
The side that can slice a man’s throat without a second thought.
I’m a merciless asshole, feared by most, and wishes a mutha fucka would try me.
Pulling into the compound, I drive around to the back and park my car in the garage.
“Everyone’s gathered in the chapel, Mav. Haven’t heard anything else, but when it’s quiet, that means trouble,” Nightmare, my Sergeant At Arms, says, updating me on the threat that’s been coming for the last couple of weeks.
“I’ll be in as soon as I get changed, in the meantime, make sure we have everything we need for tonight. We need to handle both of these issues quickly before things get out of hand.”
“You got it Mav,” he says, heading toward the shed.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I head straight to my room to change out of my suit.
I use this brief time to prepare my mind for the night ahead.
I’ve never had an issue shifting from my corporate persona to club mode, but it’s starting to fuck with me mentally.
Steel’s words echo in my mind, reminding me that getting involved with Emberlynne was a mistake, but it was one of those things that I couldn’t control.
As I open my closet and reach for a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, reluctantly pushing thoughts of my beautiful wife aside.
I often find myself yearning for a way to merge these two conflicting sides of my life, hoping for some peace.
There are nights that I dream of Ember on the back of my bike, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, embracing the Royal Bastards. Unfortunately, that will never happen.
Sliding on my kutte, I inhale the smell of the leather and close my eyes again, allowing my inner beast to surface.
I’m not sure how much longer I can handle not sharing this part of my life with Ember, but something has to give soon before I lose my shit.
Locking the door, I make my way to the chapel, adrenaline spiking as I think about the business at hand.
It’s not something I’m proud of, but one of my drug runners, a leader from one of the local gangs, has betrayed my trust. He must’ve forgotten who he was fucking with because only a fool with a death wish would ever cross me.
Raised voices get my attention as I push through the double doors, my attention falling on the man crumbled on the floor, writhing in pain.
The room goes quiet as I walk to the head of the table, tension and anger building with every step.
Nightmare comes in not long after, sitting to my right, placing my glock in front of me.
Banging the gavel, I bring the meeting to order and Steel, just like always, speaks first.
“As you know, it’s been brought to our attention that one of our new runners decided it was a good idea to cut our cocaine with fentanyl, increased the price, and pocketed the difference.
From what I’ve learned, this isn’t the first time he’s done it and several of our usual customers have died from using that tainted shit.
I think we can all agree that he’s a dead man walking,” he relays, leaning back in his chair.
“That fucker obviously doesn’t know who he’s dealing with,” Nightmare says, shaking his head.
Bowing my head, I take a deep breath, trying to calm my growing anger.
This is the result of me not being able to be present more often.
Shit like this happens and I have to clean up the aftermath.
I’m just not willing to shake that tree yet. The fallout would be catastrophic.
Leaning forward, my gaze fixates on my tracker, Lone Wolf, his eyes avoiding mine because he knows I’m fucking pissed.
“We trusted your recommendation for Stack’s gang to handle the job, and it blew up in our faces. I want to know why?”
“Prez, I know an apology won’t make up for the lost revenue and the heat coming down on us.
His references checked out and he came highly recommended,” Lone Wolf offers, but the more I sit here, thinking about what Stacks did, the more angry I become.
He’s going to die tonight. There’s been several deaths reported in the news from laced cocaine and now the DEA is involved, intent on finding the source.
“Well, those references were obviously bullshit and we’ll need to move twice as much product to account for the loss in revenue,” I state, my anger rising to the surface, ready to boil the fuck over. “Did you check those references yourself? Did you dig deeper, ask the right questions?”
“I... I guess I didn't. I trusted their word.”
“Trusted their word?! Lone, we can’t afford to take people at face value. We’re running a serious operation here and you just cost us a fuck load of money,” I shout, grabbing my gun and rising from my chair. “Have you ever known me to half-ass anything when it comes to Royal Bastard’s business?”
“No, sir. I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I really thought he’d be a good fit,” he replies, bowing his head in shame.
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. You put the entire club at risk because you didn’t do your homework!”
“I get that now. I messed up, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”
“You’d better. Because if this happens again, we won’t be sitting here discussing it. Understood?”
“Yes, Prez. I understand.”
Kneeling next to the man on the floor, I grab a fist full of his hair, lifting him halfway off the floor. Tilting his head back, I ask,
“Did you know that Stacks was cutting my product and selling it for his own profit?”
He initially stays silent, blood dripping from his mouth and bruises covering his face from Lone Wolf's brutal beating.
“Tell me!” I demand, tightening my grip on his hair.
“Ye-yes, I knew. But he promised to cut me in and I needed the money,” he stammers.
With my gun pressed against his chin, I turn to my cleaner, Dementor, and fire.
“Sorry for the mess,” I say, as I let the body fall to the floor before returning to my seat.
The room is filled with the acrid scent of blood and smoke from my gun.
This was a mistake that shouldn't have happened.
Lives are at stake and I will not hesitate to shed blood in order to protect my club.
“We need to find Stacks and resolve this before the next shipment comes in,” Hellhound remarks, knowing that as our treasurer, this has created a shit show for him.
“We’ll have to send a message to the other runners, so they’ll know to never pull this shit and remind them who’s running this fucking show! ”
“Exactly! And let's not forget, this isn't just about the drugs.
It's about our reputation. If word gets out that someone can steal from us and get away with it, we'll have more problems than just a short shipment,” Avalanche adds, pulling out his nine, ready to roll some heads.
“I've got a few contacts who might know where he is. I'll start making calls.”
“No need. I know where that asshole is. His crew is meeting us tonight, which is why I called for church. I want all hands-on deck for this one. They need to hear me loud and clear if they want to keep breathing.”
“Sounds good, Prez,” Vandal, my road captain, says, rising from his chair. “I’ll have us ready to roll in a few hours.”
“We’re adjourned,” I announce, as everyone stands.
After tonight, I have another problem I need to handle.
Elijah called a few weeks ago and said that the Savage Knights have been sighted, making their way toward the east coast. There’s only one reason they’re coming…
Emberlynne. The thought of anything happening to her makes me sick to my stomach.
Bringing her here to the clubhouse means revealing my secret life and I’m not ready to deal that blow.
I’m not sure of how she’ll react. In the meantime, I’ll hire private security that will remain out of sight until I figure this out.