Chapter 2 Leo #2
“All right, shut the fuck up,” Tiny says. “We got shit to do, and we don’t need to wait for Morris. This has to do with you,” he says, his beady eyes boring into me.
Fuck.
“Fingers says we need cash.” Tiny looks at me as though our cash flow is my problem.
Dog asks the obvious question. “Why’s our lawyer involved? I thought the property we bought was straight. Insurance money and shit?”
Tiny shook his head. “Insurance money paid to rebuild the parts that burned, but inspectors found a shit-ton of code violations.” He glared at me.
“Your brother managed not only to drive the building into bankruptcy, but he greased the palms of a few city inspectors over the years. Hid the fact that underground storage tanks weren’t handled properly, all kinds of amateur bullshit. ”
“The fact that my brother’s a no-good douchebag is old news, Tiny,” I say before he can say it. Every chance he gets, he loves to remind me that I come from nothing. It’s almost as if he’s afraid I’ll forget. “Why is this a problem now?”
Tiny’s beady eyes look me over. “We’re finally ready to lease the space, but if we don’t raise the rental prices and lock in at least a couple new tenants for two years, we’ll be running in the red on the place for at least another five.
” He shakes his head. “Club can’t sustain those kinds of losses that long. ”
“Fuck.” Dog whistles between his teeth. “We bought that dump to turn it over fast and cheap.”
“And if it hadn’t been for that asshole ex of Alice’s trying to burn it to the ground, we might have been able to get away with none of the defects coming out,” Tiny says.
A sinking feeling hits me low in the belly. “You thinking about selling the place?” I ask.
Tiny shakes his head. “We can’t. Once the fire damage was repaired, that shithole strip mall was about 65% new.
An upgrade that size meant we needed to comply with all the codes in effect for new construction.
Fingers worked some magic with the fire inspectors.
Got us grandfathered in despite the reno and saved us five figures in mandatory upgrades to bring the property up to current code.
But he made sure we knew that if we try to sell the place, they won’t sign off on the sale unless we implement the upgrades. ”
“Goddamn,” Dog says. “So, we’re in the red on the reno, and if we want to sell and cut our losses, we’ve got to put another, what, fifteen to twenty grand into the place even to list it?”
“More than that,” I say. I huff a frustrated sigh.
My brother was a decent businessman before he became an addict, but he’d been an addict a long time.
“Tim got estimates to install sprinklers in the place about four years ago, right before everything started going to shit for him. Back then, the price—even using some firefighter buddies who were licensed to do installs on the side… I think north of thirty G’s, if I remember it right. ”
“Thirty grand?” Dog slaps his hands on his thighs. “Fuck. The club oughta prospect in somebody in construction. We could use that kinda cash.”
Tiny shakes his head. “We’re not putting in a sprinkler, and we’re not selling. That’s why you’re here,” he says.
“Yeah,” I say.
Whatever it is Tiny has in mind, I’m ready for it. I’ve cleaned toilets, done light carpentry, fixed bikes, boats, and trailers.
Shit, I even walked Midge’s dogs when she gave herself food poisoning with one of those damn casseroles last year.
I’m ready to do something that can make a real impact on the club.
Tiny shoves some paperwork at me. “You know the building better than anyone,” he says. “Your record is clean, and you’re running an honest business. We need you to find somebody to rent that last space. We’re raising the rent, and we need a two-year lockdown.”
“Wait, I thought we needed two tenants. The nail salon’s confirmed?” Dog asks.
Tiny nods. “We’ve gotta throw them some perks because we upped the rent from what we initially proposed, but we worked something out,” he says.
I know what that means.
Kickbacks.
The nail salon is a match made in heaven, but that leaves one space to rent out.
“So…I’m looking for what?” I ask him. “It’s not like I’m at church on Sundays having donuts or hosting community ice cream socials. I spend all my time with you assholes. What kind of business am I supposed to find to rent the space?”
Tiny glares at me. “Telling you what to do is my job, Prospect. How to get it done is your problem.”
I sigh. Right. “How much time I got?”
“A month, tops,” Tiny says.
“Anyone I can’t rent to?” I ask. “Sex toy shop, adult film shoots, gun store?”
“If they have cash and sign for two years, I don’t care if you film old ladies using flaming grenade dildos on each other while they smoke a bong,” Tiny says. “We want a tenant who pays money. That’s it.”
“That’s it,” I echo. “Got it.”
“Don’t fuck this up,” Tiny says and pushes back from the desk, grabbing his gallon of drinkable chemicals.
The threat is implied, but it’s still there. I’m not a member of the MC yet, and nothing is guaranteed. If I want to earn my place in this brotherhood, I have a lot more ground to cover. And Tiny handed me a destination but didn’t give me a map.
“I’m not my brother, man.” I feel the need to say it for the thousandth fucking time. “I’ll get a tenant.”
Tiny nods and wheezes his way out the door.
Once we’re alone in the office, I go to stand, but Dog puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me.
“Hey,” he says. “Speaking of…you heard from that brother of yours?”
I shake my head. “Not a peep. He could be dead or in prison for all I know.” At this point, I didn’t give a shit either.
“Tough.” Dog nods as if he knows, has been there. Maybe he has. “Don’t mind Tiny,” he says. “You know the drill. Prospect bullshit. It’s how it goes. And you living with his kid…”
I nod.
I know how it goes. I’m the asshole shacking up with Tiny’s daughter.
I’m in his club, I’m in his daughter… Although thank fuck no one knows about that.