“So, these new guys, we know anything about them?” Sniper asks, arms crossed over his chest.
All us ranked members are standing in a line out front of the clubhouse waiting on Chewy’s contracted dweebs.
“Yeah, their background check was very thorough. Impressive actually. There is also some history with Chewy that they don’t want to revisit so I’d say they’d be on their best behavior,” Prez sniggers.
“Good. We have my girls and the guests we have to keep safe,” I murmur. Not that I have to remind anyone of that fact. We know why we’re here.
“This must be them,” Omen says, straightening from where he was leaning against the door jamb.
We all watch as the blacked out SUV pulls in, braking abruptly and kicking up a cloud of dust. For a moment there no one moves. Not me or my brothers, nor the people in the car. We all stand there staring, for what I’m not too sure. Maybe so Omen can intimidate the drivers with the scowl he has plastered on his face. He’s really taking his enforcer role seriously.
The driver’s side door opens and out slides a tall lean fucker with white blonde hair, clean cut and extra dorky looking in his suit trousers, short sleeved button up and, shit, is that a pocket protector? I squint at him until the other car door opens and out hops a man with almost the exact same height and build, but this one is clearly biracial with tanned skin, broad features and light brown tight coily hair. He also has the same piercing blue eyes as the blonde, however his are magnified to the power of ten thanks to his thick as hell glasses.
“Good thing the cool black guy got the glasses, he’s less likely to get his ass beat than Casper over here,” Chef mumbles under his breath as we try not to snort at the comment.
“Which one of you is which?” Prez asks, stepping forward, but not close enough to shake hands just yet.
“I’m Theo,” the blonde one says. “He’s Jay.”
“Huh. I was expecting something like Penfold and Linus,” Chef says, eyeing them up as if they got their names wrong.
“You’ll have to take that one up with our mother,” Theo says drily.
“Wait, you’re brothers?”
“Twins,” Jay answers.
“Who would have thunk?” Omen grunts.
“Chewy figured it out pretty damn fast,” Theo grumbles.
“Yeah, but Chewy is like an evil genius.”
“You got that right,” Jay adds.
Dex obviously has enough of whatever this is as he rolls his eyes and steps forward, offering his hand. “Nice to meet you, and fucking glad you’re here. We’ve waded into shit up to our balls and it would be good to have you help us try to sort the shit out.”
Theo and Jay share a look before dipping their chins, moving to the back of the SUV and pulling out fancy looking briefcases.
“Point us to where you want us to set up and then we’ll see what we can dredge up for you.”
My shoulders drop from up around my ears, knowing that if these two are as good as Chewy is, then we’ll have answers as to who the hell is going around spraying Eden’s Keep logos around.
Prez tips his head toward the front door of the clubhouse, and we all follow him inside. The light may be a little dimmer than outside, but it still doesn’t take away from the fact that what we have here isn’t as Clubhouse-y as the DRMC have back in Rose Grove. Even with them moving out of their original clubhouse into the Tombs’ farmhouse, the DRMC clubhouse has a certain level of grungy homeliness. The Keep will get there one day, but for now the space is fucking bright white and near damn angelic looking. Even with the large wooden bar that now sits on one side.
“I like it,” Theo nods. “Looks clean.”
Dex gives them a weird look before he shakes his head, “Right, welcome to the Keep.” He goes on to list off our names, nothing too formal, I mean, we have our names on our cuts. If these guys can’t figure it out, there’s no hope for them.
Before he can introduce the two prospects Damian’s loud as fuck whistle sounds out. “Ain’t lookin’ at the Leroux twins. I got better taste. What dragged you out here?”
We look from Damian, to the two men Chewy sent us, then back again.
“Damian Devereaux? Did Chewy get you, too?” Jay asks, looking genuinely shocked to see a familiar face.
“Ain’t nothin to be got, not by that little lady anyhow,” Damian smirks.
Prez looks between Damian and the geek brothers, “I’m not even gonna ask how y’all know each other, but I do want to know how the hell you ended up working for Chewy.”
