This was where Fuse spoke for the first time. “Yeah, we want Betty. What kind of trade did you have in mind?”
Viper answered without hesitation. “You may not be sittin’ on a hundred grand, but you’ve got something much more valuable to offer and you don’t even know it.”
Storm jerked his chin at Viper. The gesture seemed more like a demand than an invitation. “And what might that be?”
“Reach,” Viper shot back. “You have influence, reputation, and respect. The Dark Slayers aren’t some new club trying to prove their worth. When your club speaks, people notice and pay attention to what you have to say.”
“You want a public alliance,” Fuse said out loud. “To ride on our coattails to fortune and glory.”
“Nothing quite so crass as that,” Viper replied mildly.
Storm held his gaze. “Well, that’s sure what it sounds like.”
“I’m offering you an opportunity to barter for what you want,” Viper corrected calmly. “I’ll give you the girl, in return for three favors.”
“Do I look like a fuckin’ genie to you?” Storm bit out, visibly offended by the mere suggestion of doing Viper a favor. Maybe favors are coded language among bikers, I mused to myself.
“You want the girl and I want help forcing other clubs to take me seriously,” Viper stated.
Storm’s response was immediate and still angry. “No.”
Viper just watched Storm, like he’d fully expected the pushback he was getting.
“Are you sure you don’t want to at least hear the terms?” Viper asked. “A smart man would want to know what he was turning down before making a decision, don’t you think?”
“I heard enough,” Storm replied. “What you’re suggesting isn’t just a favor, it’s an obligation. I don’t like being obliged to do things for shifty fuckers like you. It’s a liability.”
Viper propped his feet up on his desk. “It doesn’t have to be a liability. If we play our cards right, we can both walk away with what we want from this deal,” he said with a casual wave of his hand.
Storm shook his head. “Not without some firm boundaries in place.”
Viper plainly took that to mean that the negotiation had started. “I want three favors,” he said calmly.
“Two,” he said finally. “Two favors. Defined in advance. No surprises.”
“Three,” Viper repeated quietly. “And I’ll agree to terms.”
Storm was pensive for a long moment before saying, “Don’t ask us to break the fuckin’ law. I don’t want to risk any brother in my club ending up in an orange jumpsuit over whatever stupid shit you’ve got planned. We don’t want any part in running drugs, or handling illegal firearms. I’m telling you ahead of time I won’t be party to any plan that risks spilling over into the civilian population. And I won’t move against any of our allies.”
“Well, aren’t you a bunch of fuckin’ Boy Scouts,” Viper commented sourly.
“Don’t be an ass. We might break an occasional law but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to risk my club for you to get the respect you want.”
“Fine,” Viper said. “I agree to those terms.”
Storm’s eyes narrowed slightly, even after Viper gave him everything he asked for. It didn’t make any sense to me.
Fuse was the smart one. He quickly pointed out, “We don’t even know what the favors are yet.”
“I have a good idea of what I need,” Viper responded. “I suppose you want to hear all about it, right?”
“Of fuckin’ course we do. If what you’re planning doesn’t pass the sniff test, we ain’t agreeing to it,” Storm spat out.
“One of them will be to ride publicly with my club. I want you and me side by side in public at a time and place of my choosing.”
“You want to borrow a little status. I can work with that,” Storm agreed, relaxing a bit.
“The second favor is I want you to back me in a vote between clubs. I’ll make sure it doesn’t put you at odds with an ally, but I want to have your public support on something tangible.”
