“Not much going on, huh?”
Cleo chuckled but didn’t respond. If this guy knew half the things that went down in Killcreek, he’d be hauling ass out of town real quick.
He flipped his phone to face her and she leaned closer.
Cleo knew exactly where they were headed. She pointed to the road on the right. “It’s about twelve miles down that way. There’s an old barn on the corner, make a left, and it’ll be on your right.” She bit her bottom lip, eyeing the men and the truck at the gas pump. “There aren’t any houses there, though.”
There weren’t many houses anywhere in Killcreek, but that was an especially desolate area. Mostly woods, and if she remembered correctly, only one way in and out. The property bordered the next town over. In fact, if she had to guess, it wasn’t even part of Killcreek territory.
The friendlier of the two hooked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the truck. “Going camping.”
Camping? It made sense. She’d never been, but the thought of sleeping under the stars and roasting marshmallows over a fire was appealing.
“Well, have fun.”
The blond smiled, and his gaze lingered. “Thanks.”
She waved goodbye, headed back to her trunk, and grabbed another bag from the ice box while eyeing the truck with the camper attached sitting at the gas pump. There was a large tarp over the back, which probably housed their camping gear, she assumed. When the back window rolled down, she saw strands of long blonde hair billow out as a girl turned her head, looking up at the store sign with a small smile on her lips. With the sunlight shining in the back of the cab, she could make out another woman with dark hair and another guy behind the driver’s seat.
The blonde shifted her gaze, locking eyes with Cleo. They were roughly around the same age. The girl gave a short wave, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Cleo awkwardly waved and watched them pull out of the lot and head down the road, following her directions. They’d probably be set up before the sun went down. The camper was small, so a few would have to sleep in tents. She cocked her head watching their bumper disappear from sight. They’d probably be gathered around the fire in lawn chairs enjoying the quiet in a few short hours.It sounds nice.
Her phone pinging knocked her out of her envious haze, and she reached into her pocket.
Wraith: Where are you?
The corner of her mouth curled, and she quickly responded.
Cleo: Hi Wraith! I’m at Burke’s picking up some snacks, but I’m leaving now.
She hit send and immediately texted him again.
Cleo: Oh, one more thing. Tell Joker I grabbed the ice so he doesn’t make an extra trip. See you soon!
She tucked the phone back in her pocket and loaded the last few bags in her trunk. She slammed it closed, and for some reason glanced down the empty road where the campers were headed.
I bet they’ll have a great time.
****
What the fuck?
Wraith clenched his teeth, grasping tightly to his phone. Why the hell was Cleo doing the prospect’s job? He eyed Joker behind the bar, clearing glasses from the night before. The man was slow moving after partying too hard last night, with bloodshot eyes and a pale face.Not her problem, asshole!He’d have a word or two with him after the meeting. Until then, Wraith needed to focus on the deal happening in front of him.
This pairing between two clubs wasn’t something either of the Killcreek Drifters or Satan’s Hex had seen coming. They’d always had decent ties stemming from a common respect between Slater, the president of Satan’s, and his own president, Ace. They’d done some sales and transports together without any issue. However, this was different.
A year ago, Slater and his VP, Axel, had been arrested and were awaiting trial on a weapons charge. There’d been enough evidence to lock them up until then. In most cases, the higher-ranking officers in the club would band together, step in, and follow the lead of the imprisoned President. As far as Wraith knew, that was how it had been handled. In the beginning. Then six months ago, Griggs, the Sergeant at Arms, had taken an active role in leadership, making moves and decisions that went against how Slater and Axel ran their club. And like fucking sheep, their members fell in line.
The Killcreek Drifters MC was a different breed of club. Loyal to the end. In his time with the Drifters, he, along with most of his brothers, had been locked up at one time or another, including Ace, and Cross, their VP. There hadn’t been even a whisper of a takeover from any member. They worked like a well-oiled machine following their orders.
Wraith hardened his glare at Griggs.No fucking honor in this asshole.He’d appointed himself to the position and wanted to make big, risky moves. The deal in question had Killcreek providing three times the amount of product. It was a risk thatwould cost them. Though Griggs, to his credit, was still trying to negotiate.
Stale-fucking-mate.
This deal was being threatened by greed and entitlement.
“By increasing our order, that gives you over fifty percent more than we’re paying now.” Griggs grabbed his beer, chugging half of it before slamming the glass down on the table. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, narrowing his gaze. “Was expecting a fair negotiation on this deal, Ace.”
Cross scoffed. “Where the fuck do you think you are? Does this look like a swap meet where you can haggle the price?”
