I suck in a breath and hold it for a moment as I wait for the men to talk. I have no idea what to suggest or how to go about changing the direction of the club.
I don’t mind the security aspect, at least when it comes to concerts and shit like that. I don’t mind selling equipment, either, and I don't mind having it fall off trucks.
But even if I don’t mind those things, they don’t make a shit ton of money, and I’m not someone who is going to be able to do them all. My day job, like Ivy’s, takes a lot more time away from the club than it helps the club.
I don’t feel like it’s my place to suggest a goddamn thing, at least when it comes to daily operations.
“We have some big decisions to make, but brainstorming hasn’t given us anything,” Viking announces.
“No,” Bullet mutters. “It hasn’t, and as much as I want to think that I could come up with some grand plan, I got fucking nothing.”
Admitting that you have no idea when you’re the president of the club is brave. I don’t know if he realizes it or not, but it is. Most men don’t admit a goddamn thing, so to have him confess that he doesn’t know what to do, it’s a breath of fresh air, honest to fuck.
“So what the fuck do we do?” Maverick asks.
We share knowing glances with one another, trying to figure it out ourselves. We’ve got a whole bunch of fucking nothing. Sucking in a breath through my teeth, I push back as I stand.
I walk over to the window and look out at the parking lot. I’m not sure what the fuck to do, but I do know we can’t continue likethis. Not as men and not as a club. Rocking back on my heels, I turn around to face the room.
I want the strip club job. But that’s selfish. I want it for one reason and one reason only: for her. For my Millie. So I don’t even mention it, because it’s not for the club. It would be for me, and that would be wrong.
“I don’t think going legal is the answer,” I state.
The hush that falls over the room is palpable. I’m the very last person in this room who should suggest doing anything illegal. I’ve taken oaths, but my commitment is to the club first and the police department second. I know that goes against everything my job demands of me.
But I don’t care.
The Vicious Reapers are my family, and that is where my loyalty lies.
That is where it will always lie.
“Are you sure you mean what you’re saying?” Lightning asks.
“I’m sure,” I state without a moment of hesitation. “We’re not going to be able to support our families on being legitimate. We need the illegal shit, and we’re good at it. So let’s pivot and make the best of the situation we’re in.”
Shocker begins to clap. It’s slow at first. He builds speed, and then the others join in. Hell yeah. I had a good idea for once. It doesn’t happen often, but here I am. When the clapping stops, I clear my throat before I return to my chair.
Sinking down in the seat, I press my lips together because I don’t have much else to add, to be honest.
“No trafficking women, and I don’t want a stable, either,” Bullet states.
“I can agree with that,” Lightning affirms.
Me too.
“Let’s get brainstorming,” Bullet announces.
So that’s exactly what we do, though I have to admit, we pretty much suck ass. I’m not sure how we can come up with a random, wonderful idea that will make us money, but I’m ready to listen.
CHAPTER THREE
PIGGY
“We may notlike the Front mob family, but we have an in with them. We may be able to come up with something mutually beneficial. Not just protection on those deliveries, but more. Lorenzo might be willing, especially since he doesn’t have his kid to worry about anymore,” Viking says.
I wince at the thought of his kid. That fucking asshole. He deserved to die, but it should have been a slow death. Excruciatingly slow.
“What happens when Lorenzo finds out about his kid, and that we’re the ones who helped set him up to be arrested?”
