“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MOTHERFUCKING MIND?” Knox snarled.
A valid reaction. Grant had to have lost it, but he needed to find that motherfucker right the fuck now.
“I’m perfectly sane,” Grant responded.
“Says you,” Axel told him. “To everybody else, you sound like a stupid motherfucker.”
“Well, I’m not,” Grant declared. “I’m cooking meth to bring in money for CJ’s club.”
“Now say what now?” Rebel blurted, seeming to find her fucking voice.
Knox swiveled to Rebel, red-faced, trembling with rage. “Exactly, Rebel. Make it make sense. I will disown you before I release money to you for that reason.”
“Little dude, you don’t want to run a methlab,” Mort said.
“Yeah, your money can be put to better use,” Cash said, another motherfucker who grew up in wealth.
“No,” Grant said stubbornly. “This will help CJ. Besides, we already talked about it.”
All eyes turned to CJ. “I thought he was joking, even if I don’t see a problem with it.”
“Except that motherfucker doesn’t know the first fucking thing about meth,” Rebel said.
Exactly. Christopher couldn’t have said it better himself. What the fuck was wrong with GrantandCJ? They couldn’t use the club to fucking experiment and hope for the fucking best.
“I can learn.”
“You can also blow the fuck up,” Rebel retorted.
“And go to jail for life,” Mattie added.
“That will not happen,” Grant insisted as Tabitha walked into the room, glared at Jana and sashayed to Diesel.
Christopher threw that stupid motherfucker a warning, so he wouldn’t fuck with her in front of Bash.
“It sure the fuck won’t,” Knox said flatly, unaware of the new drama. “You won’t get the money to build it.”
“That’s my dream!”
“To run a motherfucking meth lab?” Val sounded appalled. “You can do anything else with that fucking money.”
Bash dropped next to Christopher and leaned closer. “Who’s that?”
“A fucking idiot,” Axel said, still standing nearby.
“Why is everyone making a big deal out of this?” Grant cried.
“I accepted that you want to be a full-time biker,” Knox started. “I accepted you want to drop out of Harvard, despite the Harrington tradition. I accepted you won’t join the company. But I will be goddamned if I accept you running a meth lab. Cooking meth. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m with your daddy on this one, Grant,” Mortician said, which started a chorus of agreements, even from Bash and motherfuckingCleaner.
That spoke volumes to Grant’s fucked-up idea.
“You can’t do this, Grant,” Harley said. “This will break Lolly’s heart.”
If possible, Knox paled a little more.
“She lived her life the way she wanted,” Grant said with a shrug. “She can’t tell me what to do with mine.”
