I pick up a couple of chairs and set them straight. Brother’s have the bar straightened up in less than ten minutes while Luca stares at the door.
“What’s wrong, Luc? Angel asks him.
“That’s twice we’ve let the police walk right in. There won’t be a third.” He turns to us and tells us, “We’re gonna brick it up. The back will be the only way in and out. It will make it easier for us to hole up if needed. The gate will be locked at all times. The prospect will sit on it when he ain’t needed.”
“Maybe we should look at getting more prospects,” the prospect grunts.
Luca ignores him and focuses on me. “Look at ways to fortify this place, and cover the warehouse too.”
I grin. The adrenaline is coursing through me, and I’ve never felt so at home as I do here with this bunch of assholes.
37
Luca
Ihave been president over this chapter for over a year, and though we’ve made our mark, it still doesn’t feel like it has been enough. I want more. Music plays, tonight’s party in full swing. Darius’s crew showed up a couple of hours ago and spirits are high. Taking out the Hogs was mission completed but I’m fully aware there will be more. Like everything else, I’ll deal with them if and when they come to town. I swig my beer. Angel, Darius, Jermaine, Warren, and Max, are sat at the table with me, and I keep my eyes everywhere.
King is sat at the bar alone. A few women have stopped to talk to him, but from what I’ve seen, he’s brushed them off and they’ve moved on to another brother or a member of Darius’s crew. He has been too quiet since the night Annabel was shot dead. The only time I hear him is when he’s panicking about blowbacks.
The prospect walks over and leans down to tell me, “The old man proposed, he’s giving her the warehouse as an early wedding gift, for her son.”
Fucking finally something going our way without blood being shed.
“Wait here,” I instruct.
Placing my beer on the table, I stand and head into the back room, closing the door behind me. I retrieve the envelope I’m looking for in the chest locked in the corner of the room and take out a second envelope from the safe behind the picture of guns on the wall. Making sure everything is back in place, I leave the back room and get the attention of all the brothers.
They circle the table, and I stand beside the prospect. Tipping out the contents of the first envelope, patches hit the table.
“As of tonight, Konan is no longer prospecting. He’s more than earned his place with us.” I grab the patches and hand them over to him. “Welcome, brother. Welcome to the Lost Souls Motorcycle club.” He takes the patches and clasps my hand, pulling me against him. I slap his back and pull away.
“About fuckin’ time, huh?” Max hollers.
“Yeah, about fuckin’ time,” Konan murmurs with a sigh.
“The warehouse is ours. As soon as it’s in our name, we’ll start work. Now go fuckin’ celebrate,’ I order.
Max and Trey bundle on Konan and drag him over to the bar. King returns to his stool, separating himself from the brothers. I’m going to have to keep a close eye on him.
Before the prospect, or Konan I should call him now, gets wasted, and before I sit down, I push through the crowd and hand the second envelope to him.
He frowns. “What’s this?”
“Ten grand. For your mom. A thank you from the club.”
“She’s set to get more than ten large. The club needs it more.”
“The club shows gratitude. Besides, women like your mom will always want more.”
“Sounds like you know her.”
“I’ve known women like her.”
He pockets the envelope and is pulled away by Warren. On my return to the table, two young looking guys, stop in front of me.
Arching my brow, I wait for them to speak. They keep me waiting.
“Speak.”
