“Business is business,” Smitty snarls, clearly having enough of being made to look like he’s not in control. “And this islongoverdue.”
“What is?” Ringo snaps, and I swear, you could hear a pin drop as we all wait for Smitty to clue us in on what’s happening here.
“A trade.”
For a long beat, no one speaks, but I feel Ringo squeeze my hand, and this time I don’t think he realises he’s doing it a little too tightly. “What sort of trade?”
The Rebel, Panda, steps forward, hoisting a bag onto the table, unzipping it, and pulling out a handful of cash.
“Nine hundred K, as requested,” he mutters, smirking at Ringo as he hands the cash to Smitty.
“The fuck!” Ringo growls, dropping my hand and taking a step forward. “What’s the money for, Nate? We don’t fucking trade with cunts like this.”
Smitty waves Ringo off, running his thumb along the stack of one-hundred-dollar bills.
“You know what this moneycando for us?” He holds it up for everyone to see. “Everything we had went into buying this land to give you a home, but this money can buy us riches to enjoy on the land. More hogs. More housing. More deal buy-ins.” He brings the money down and fans himself with it as he rolls his hips. “More women.”
“Hell, yeah.” Spud thumps the table next to my mother, who jumps in her chair before shuffling closer to her father. “We’re overdue for some fresh pussy!”
Some Sadists cheer at that, but most don’t, and a quick look at the Doxies shows they aren’t happy, either.
“Just imagine what we, as a club, can do with this cash.” Smitty beams, looking around the room at his club brothers. “Without it, we’re going to be scraping for fucking food. We’ll need to work twice as much to bring in money. Hell, the piss might have to be rationed.”
Grumbles fill the air, and a chill runs down my spine at what I’m witnessing.
Smitty is trying to convince the club that doing business with my grandfather is in their best interest.
Why would he do that? Is this another ruse of his? Like the day we all thought he was going to kill JD, but he was really testing JD’s loyalty to Jols.
What the hell is his angle?
“We don’t do business with predators, Smitty. Cut the shit!” Ringo yells, and shit, the venom in his tone sends a ripple up my spine.
Sometimes, I forget how scary he can be.
My monster.
“You need to shut the fuck up!” Smitty bellows at Ringo, silencing everyone. “You need to remember your fucking place! I am the President of this club. Not you!”
“I am the fucking enforcer, and I’m telling you, this goes against our fucking code!”
Slamming the wad of cash down on the table, Smitty stabs his finger in our direction.
“You and your fucking code bullshit! I’ve had enough of you thinking you can use my club for your own fucking gain.”
Ringo scoffs at that. “I’m not going over this with you again, Nate. I haven’t used the club, and the only one to gain from this deal isyou.” Ringo points to the cash. “You won’t share your spoils with the men. If they’re lucky, you’ll find them some extra pussy and hope it keeps them distracted while you build yourself a fucking palace and sit yourself on a fucking throne.”
“Nonsense.” Smitty waves him off, not even bothering to fight harder to deny it. “Now, let’s finalise this deal.”
Turning his back on Ringo, Smitty faces my grandfather.
“You have yourself a deal. The money for Charityandher spawn.”
My heart stops at Nate’s words, as chaos erupts in the room.
Guns come out from all directions. Ringo’s and his team’s directed at their President, while Smitty’s lackeys jump into action, directing theirs at us, and the other club brothers scattered around, pointing guns in different directions, not sure who they should, or want to, point theirs at.
“The fuck!” Ringo roars. “It was you this whole fucking time! The fucking snitch was you!”
