We sit in silence for about twenty seconds. Mom keeps pouting out her lips and letting out small sighs. I know what she’s doing. Her voice is inside my head, like some kind of warped Jiminy Cricket.
‘Just have fun, it’s okay to let your hair down once in a while. Come poke fun at the drunk ass bikers.’
“Fucking fine,” I nudge her and get up. “But I’m only doing this so I can point and laugh.”
“Sounds perfect to me.”
“And I’m driving up there.”
Her brow lifts in the direction of the wine glass.
“I’ve barely touched it.”
“Everything okay, honey?”
I put on a smile that can fool anyone, including my mother. She doesn’t need to hear about the Roderick case. I link her arm, grab my keys and we head out to poke some fun at the big bad bikers.
Chapter Six
Dominic (Mace)
This office is not what you’d expect for the President of a one percenter MC. There are cases full of books and a whole Orangerie of plants over by the window. It’s bright and airy and clean as fuck, it smells like lemon and pine.
The safe in the corner is something out of an old Wild West movie. God knows what he keeps in there. More secrets, probably. King is good at those. But I’m coming to learn he’s a decent guy.
For years, I’d only ever known him as a rival. Ranger, the only Prez I’d ever acknowledge at the Kingsmen, had a begrudging respect for King Curtis. I followed his lead. It was only after Ranger was almost killed and run out of the club that I began to look at the Devil’s Chaos as true enemies of our club.
That was all fucked up, too. The enemy was within.
I’m antsy to get out of here, despite how well this conversation has gone. It’s been a while since our chapter was inaugurated, and we’ve spent the whole time on probation. To me, it’s time the training wheels came off, and that is why I’m here.
I’m sick of having my decisions second guessed. And with shit stirring with Zelda, bringing my ass here whenever King feels like calling me in is getting tiresome.
Since I first met him, when I was tied up and dragged into a garage to answer for what the Kingsmen did, I’ve worked hard to get respect from him. It could have gone the other way. God knows the Kingsmen saw it as a betrayal.
Saving King’s daughter had a lot to do with him being lenient and understanding. So, I came here tonight hoping he’d accept my proposal without me having to turn it into an argument. I’m playing the game to get what I want. King is aware, I’m sure, but I don’t care.
I slipped into the compound without much notice. There is a party going on, which is nothing new. This place is so big there is always something happening.
Those who did see me watched with varying expressions. Interest, disdain, lack of concern and one or two still have outright rage towards me. I ignored them all.
“You trust the buyer?” King asks, picking up his glass and draining the last few mouthfuls of whisky. He’d offered me one, but I’m leaving straight after. I don’t drink and ride.
“No more than you would working with someone new. Marshall seems solid though. He takes shit seriously and doesn’t mess with the cartel. Everything moves through Europe from the port. He has a contact at the international container terminal.”
King strokes a hand down his beard. I’m not going to tell him I’ve carried out sales like this enough times to know the risks involved. I was the fucking VP, it’s second nature to me.
“What do you know about the contact?”
“He’s solid. We’ve been watching him for the last three weeks. He’s sitting on a huge nest egg in an offshore bank account. We couldn’t break through his work firewalls though. Whoever they use for their online security, they’re damn good.”
King nods his head. “He exclusive with the buyer?”
“From what I’ve seen, no. He doesn’t work for anyone but himself. Brokers his own deals. As much as Marshall wants me to believe he’s theirs.”
“It would be good to have another contact at the port.”
My thoughts exactly. I don’t say that though. I’ve been working on this job for a few weeks now, but it’s not my ultimate goal. That is Bernard Singer and what he can do for Devil’s Chaos, not working with the middleman we’re providing protection for.
