Were his hell-raising days over?
Fuck that.
“Yo! Prez!”
Zeke was jerked back to the room and the club officers circling the table. Shit.They were supposed to be discussing important business.
Like starting a medical marijuana dispensary to make a shit-ton of scratch.
That thought reminded him that he had spent the last of his cash at that diner. He needed to hit up Cruz after the meeting to get access to the accounts since the club’s treasurer must have changed the passwords while Zeke was “away” on his unexpected vacation full of bars. Not the drinking type.
If he had to, he’d head over to The Iron Horse tonight after closing and clean out the till. If there wasn’t enough scratch in that, he would head over to Heaven’s Angels and hit that up after.
“All right,” he started, glancing over at his brother. “What the fuck did Lily say?”
“She looked into the legalities, the applications and the requirements. She pretty much said it’s best to start an LLC without ties to the club before applyin’.”
“She workin’ on that?”
“Told her to wait ’til we had this meetin’. No point in tyin’ up her time if this shit ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Zeke didn’t like the sound of that, but it was what it was. “But it’s doable?”
“Yeah, she thinks so. But the LLC should be squeaky clean.”
Zeke griped, “Jesus. It’s fuckin’ easier to peddle pot on the fuckin’ corner.”
“But not as profitable. Medical’s legal, recreational ain’t. Openin’ up a dispensary’s like bein’ a dealer with the backin’ of the state. No one’s goin’ to prison when they’re sellin’ legal flower.”
“‘Less they do somethin’ fuckin’ stupid,” Rage said.
“Why the fuck you lookin’ at me?” Zeke asked their sergeant at arms.
“With his record, he ain’t gonna be allowed to stick his mitts in that business,” Zane informed everyone at the table.
Wheels barked out a laugh. “Think that’s gonna stop him from doin’ somethin’ stupid?”
Zeke glanced down the table at their road captain. “Thanks for the fuckin’ vote of confidence, brother.”
Wheels shrugged. “Just callin’ it as I see it.”
Zane continued. “Not sure how many of our brothers, or prospects, are gonna be able to work there, anyway. Lily said the state reviews each applicant’s background for any past offenses. So, they not only gotta pass our inspection, but the fuckin’ state’s. They could be denied for prior convictions when it comes to any kinda drug offenses. If they got some, they gotta provide proof they’re no longer involved in that shit.”
“How the fuck you prove you’re no longer doin’ somethin’?” Chaos asked. “It’s like askin’ for proof of fuckin’ Santa or the Easter Bunny.”
“Or Sasquatch,” Wheels threw in.
“No fuckin’ idea,” Zane answered. “Guess we’ll find out if it comes down to it.”
“Just gotta be real goddamn picky ‘bout who’sworkin’ there as budtenders,” Rage said. “When it comes to our members, we know who got a fuckin’ record and who don’t. Could always get Vi to run some background checks before hirin’ any outside employees so we don’t waste our fuckin’ time.”
“True that,” Zane said.
“Yeah, that sounds like a plan,” Zeke said next.
If it was up to him, he wouldn’t have any outside employees. They needed to trust anyone working there one hundred fucking percent. That was the main reason they tried to fill their businesses with the DAMC members and family.
By only working for the club businesses, that also meant the members were filling the DAMC’s coffers with more than only dues. Doing that benefitted them all.
