Jude, Miguel, Isaac, Roman and Darius.
Five lives changed forever that day. Their deaths affected their families, affected their communities, stopped family lines and changed the course of life for everyone that knew them.
Yet here I am still breathing and I can’t help but fucking question why.
It’s all too fucked for me to even grasp for an answer. If there even is one. All I know is that it was my fault. And I have to atone for that somehow.
Maybe that’s why I’m so hell bent on fixing this place. A place where lives were taken and souls that were lost came to. Maybe with a fine touch and with better people running it these people here will actually have a chance to enjoy something that is nice.
Maybe by bringing myself around here, owning something here in the Vipers MC name it will bring life back into this town of death.
And maybe, just maybe I want to keep a certain someone close but within arms length.
“I’m sure, sir.”
His eyes study me as he stays silent. My stoic expression allows him to see nothing. Except even I know you can’t fool a fellow Marine.
“I would advise you against it considering the cost but I’m afraid that will fall on deaf ears.”
“The damage?” I inquire with a finality to my tone.
Jerry notices and hands me over the price of paper. Down at the bottom circled with a red pen is the total cost to revamp this joint.
Over one hundred thousand.
With the money Vipers MC makes now this is chump change.
“I assume this doesn’t include labor.”
He shakes his head. “I can have my team ready as soon as the papers get signed to start working. That will take me about two weeks.”
“And how long will it take for this to be finished?”
He tilts his head to the side. “Three months if everything goes according to plan.”
I nod my head and hold out my hand. Not needing any words Jerry nods his head back and we shake on the deal.
“I’ll be seeing you soon,” he tells me before he leaves.
Stuffing the paper inside my cut I head towards my Harley. A beautiful gauntlet grey metallic and a vivid black with chrome finish. It has a classic softail frame but an improved design for a better ride. Giving a muscular appearance with its steamroller stance it’s the perfect bike for a man like me. She’s an absolute beauty, my Harley. And there’s no better feeling than riding her down the highway and back roads.
Snake’s ride is much sleeker than mine. A lean machine with power much like it’s owner.
His second cigarette of the day gets crushed under his boot.With no helmet for him today he slides his black aviators over his eyes.
“We have one more stop to make and then we can head back,” Snake informs me with a knowing smile. I know that smile all too well. The fucker has something up his sleeve.
“Where?”
“Fantasy.”
My brows shoot to my hairline. “Fantasy,” I echo back unbelievably. There’s no fucking way in hell Alice would like him going to Fantasy. A strip club that has no problems crossing the boundaries with their clients.
“Yup,” he replies with his smile wider.
“Alice knows about this?” I love Snake like my very own brother but if he fucks over Alice I’ll beat him to death.
He snorts then. Tipping his sunglasses down he looks at me over them before rolling his eyes. “She knows, Oak.”
