The gavel pounded, and Chains jerked his head up and looked at the club president who stood at the head of the table. The noise in the room came to an immediate stop as Steel called church to order.
“The first thing we have to discuss is whether or not we want to sell weed to this group in Kansas. Chains ran a background on these guys, and I’ve checked them out with some of our other contacts as well. So far it looks okay,” Steel said.
“Would this be an ongoing business?” Army asked.
Steel shook his head. “Nah. We don’t need the fuckin’ ATF in our business, but we need the cash to buy more weapons. We stand to make a shitload from this sale.” He glanced over at Chains. “Give us the lowdown on these buyers.”
He lifted his chin as he rose to his feet. “The buyers are a father-and-son team. They work outta Wichita and have thirty people on their payroll. The dad, Gary, runs one of the most prestigious real estate companies in Wichita, and I bet none of his employees suspects he’s the head of a drug-smuggling ring,” Chains said with a laugh. “He and his son have a bogus company from where they launder the money. They sell natural stuff like soaps, lotions, and other shit.”
A low murmur of laughter filled the room.
“Love those states that haven’t legalized weed—gives us a good revenue,” Muerto said.
“Yep. These dudes distribute weed to about ten of them,” Chains replied. “The kick in the ass is that this dude’s wife’s all over the society pages in the newspapers. I bet the people they hobnob with at the country club don’t have a fuckin’ clue where the money comes from. Posers to the max.”
“I hate posers,” Diablo said.
“I second that,” Sangre added.
Suddenly Goldie shot to his feet. “Who wants to beat the shit outta posers?”
And then the room exploded with strings of expletives as some of the members pounded their fists on the tables while others jumped to their feet. Chains laughed, then plopped down on the chair, waiting for Steel to hit the gavel and bring church back to order.
Paco pushed away from the wall and put two fingers in his mouth, then whistled so loudly that Chains thought his eardrums would burst.
“Fuck, dude,” he said.
“You’re better than the damn gavel.” Steel laughed, then looked over at Chains. “Are we ready to roll on this deal?”
Chains nodded. “Pretty much. I just wanna check a few more references who’ve done business with these buyers. If it all checks out, we’re good to go.”
“Okay. Let me know and I’ll set it up,” Paco said. “To change the subject, we got the Steamboat Springs rally coming up soon. Hawk and Banger told Steel and me that they expect some trouble from that fucking MC one of their ex-members joined.” He snapped his fingers several times. “I can’t remember the name of the damn club. It’s on the tip of my fucking tongue.”
“Are you getting old or is Chelsea keeping you up all night?” Rooster joked.
“Rising Order,” Paco blurted out. “That’s it”—he glanced over at Rooster—“and fuck you.”
Rooster guffawed and flipped the vice president his middle finger.
Steel leaned forward. “I told the Insurgents we’ll help if those assholes start up any shit.”
“Damn straight,” Chains said.
“Hawk knows he can count on us,” Eagle added.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had a good fight.” Brutus tipped back on his chair.
“Fallen Slayers said they’d join in too,” Skull said.
“I didn’t think they were gonna come. They seemed lukewarm about it last week when I went to their club party,” Eagle said.
“They got a couple of new members, and to hear Roughneck say it, the two dudes are crazier than shit.” Steel chuckled.
Roughneck was the president of the Fallen Slayers MC, which was located in Silverado—an hour’s drive from Alina. The two MCs were friendly and often partied or helped each other out when rival clubs tried to mess with either of them.
“If there’s nothing else, get the hell outta here and go find a drink and a good lay.” Steel tapped the gavel on the table.
A mild commotion rippled through the room: metal chairs scraped against the concrete floor as members stood up, voices echoed and reverberated, and heavy boots left the room.