Chapter Two #3
Any out of state buyers had to be vetted by Killcreek.
Part of the deal was knowing exactly where the product was being distributed.
They had the final say, knowing the wrong exchange held potential risk of being tied to them.
It wasn’t something Killcreek could afford.
They’d always been about anonymity. It’s what kept them safe.
There were strict rules set in place. Satan’s could sell to anyone, but if they had to cross state lines for delivery, Killcreek would step in and make the transport.
With that came a few stipulations, which Cross was certain the Satan’s were trying to avoid.
There had been red flags from the beginning with this deal.
The amount of product they’d taken on with the intent on selling seemed way out of their league.
“You let us know when you do.” Ace narrowed his gaze. It was a warning.
“Yeah, of course, man.”
Cross grabbed his beer bottle, finishing it off.
They’d made an impromptu visit to the Satan’s Hex clubhouse.
It wasn’t uncommon for them to do so. It kept everyone on their toes.
There wasn’t anything that stood out as suspicious.
They demanded to see where they stashed their product.
It was less secure than how Killcreek would store it, but it was acceptable.
“As long as you get your money, do you really care?” Spinner asked.
Cross glanced across the table. He was younger by about a decade.
He’d been with the club for years under Slater and Axel.
A solid brother by all accounts, but something shifted when the president and VP got locked up.
A taste of power will do that. Unfortunately for both Griggs and Spinner, there was more to running a club than titles and calling the shots.
It took leadership with the best interest of the club at the forefront.
That’s what Satan’s Hex was lacking now.
They were looking toward the reward without taking into account the consequences.
“Yeah.” Cross scowled, locking Spinner in his sights. “We fucking care.”
Spinner flattened his lips and gave a curt nod, but remained silent.
“Another drink, brothers?” Without waiting for a response, Griggs lifted his arm, snapping his fingers.
A petite redhead rushed forward, stopping at the edge of the table.
A club whore. Their club had quite a few.
Cross wasn’t sure what the draw was, being with Satan’s Hex.
It might’ve been protection. Though, he wouldn’t have put his well-being in their club’s hands.
Since Slater and Axel had been incarcerated, the club had gotten lax.
There was a lack of self-respect for themselves and the club as a whole.
This wasn’t how the president and VP ran things. But they’re not here anymore.
“Get the table another round.” Griggs barked.
She glanced over the table and her lips moved but she hadn’t said anything. He assumed she was making a mental note of the drinks. She spun around and weaved through a group playing darts.
Oak leaned past Cross, stretched his neck, and eyed the woman as she walked back to the bar. Tiny biker shorts riding up her ass left little to the imagination.
“She yours?” Oak asked.
Griggs grinned. “She’s everybody’s.”
Club whores were a thing in every club. Including Killcreek.
They held a different set of rules. Women weren’t permitted to stay at their clubhouse.
They came, they partied, they worked, they fucked.
But they never stayed or lived under the clubhouse roof.
Women brought a different element. They complicated things. Killcreek didn’t allow it.
She came back over with a tray balanced on her arm. She handed out the beers, stopping next to Cue, who hadn’t looked up from the table. Even Cross, who hadn’t been interested in the redhead, had done his fair share of looking. Pretty face and tight body. Most men would check her out. Not Cue.
She placed the bottle in front of him next to his empty.
“Oh shoot, I brought you the wrong beer.”
Cue held up his hand. “It’s fine.”
She reached for the bottle. “No, I can bring you the right one.”
Cue grabbed her wrist, and hardened his stare, finally looking up at her. “I said it’s fine.”
“Okay,” she whispered and offered a shaky smile.
She walked away, and Cue grabbed his bottle, taking a long sip. He subtly turned his head in the direction of the girl. Cross wasn’t the only one to notice.
“She’s a wild fucking ride if you wanna test her out,” Griggs said, followed by a cackle.
Cross couldn’t care less about how he spoke about the club whore, but watching Cue’s gaze harden was interesting. The brother hadn’t shown any interest in the redhead. To his knowledge, Cue didn’t even know the woman, which made his reaction all the more strange.
“Not here for your whores.” Cue growled.
Griggs shrugged, grabbed his beer, and stood. “Well, I am. But you brothers enjoy your drinks. We’ll talk soon.”
Griggs walked away from the table, and the other members followed suit.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Cue said and stood.
As they walked through the room, Cross could feel eyes on them.
It was always important to be prepared for a surprise attack.
He doubted Satan’s would try anything, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
He glanced over his shoulder, taking in the room.
No one seemed to be paying them any attention.
Except the little redhead. She was staring at Cue, arching her neck when they passed a group near the door.
Her gaze shifted to Cross as if she knew she was being watched.
She immediately turned around, giving him her back.
What the fuck am I missing? Did the club whore and Cue know each other?
Cross sidled up next to Cue as they started down the front steps.
“Who’s the girl?”
Cue knitted his brows but stared straight forward. “What girl?”
Brother, c’mon.
Cross snorted, shaking his head. “The redhead.”
“Club whore.” Cue shrugged. “I don’t fucking know her.”
Cross shared a look with Oak, who was openly smirking.
“Oak, you got something to say?”
He snickered, staring at Cue. “I think she’s got a little crush on our boy. Last time we were here, she couldn’t take her eyes off him.” His taunting tone had Cue visibly annoyed. “I offered to wait around if he wanted to take her in the back, but I think Cue’s playing hard to get.”
Cue ripped his helmet from his handlebar, glaring at Oak. “Not playing anything. I can get dirty pussy at my own house, don’t need theirs.”
Cross was almost taken aback by Cue’s response. Everyone in the club had a foul mouth, but Cue was usually tamer than most. Especially when it came to women.
“I don’t know, brother. She looked pretty clean to me,” Oak said.
Cue shot out his arm, pointing to the clubhouse. “Then you bang her.”
Oak chuckled and straddled his bike. “But Cue, man, I wasn’t the one she was eye fucking.”
Cue started his bike and waited for Cross to lead them out. He’d put the brother out of his misery for now and end this conversation.