Rags glanced up and met the cold stare of the Insurgents’ president. “What was the question?” he asked, sitting up straighter, the faint tug of stitches over his brow pulling tight.
Banger’s brows drew together. “You’re in church, damnit! Get your fuckin’ head outta your ass. What we talk about here is important. What the fuck’s going on with you?” His ice-blue eyes narrowed.
“Just got shit on my mind,” Rags said, meeting the prez’s gaze.
“Like a pussy,” Blade said under his breath while Tank sniggered.
Rags wanted to bury his fist in Blade’s face but didn’t think Banger would approve—especially not during church.
“That’s a lame excuse for not giving your full attention. We all got shit going on,” Banger said.
Rags clenched his teeth and nodded.
“Now, what’ve you found out ’bout the business the Devils Reign MC is taking from us?” Banger asked, irritation lacing his voice.
“They’ve taken away a few of the loans we had by buying them out and charging lower interest to the citizens who had them,” Rags said. “The club fronts the debtors the money to pay us back, then the debtors pay Devils Reign at a lower rate. Word gets out, and suddenly they got a line of citizens knocking on their door.”
Stepping forward, Hawk said, “Rags is right. Reviewing the books, our revenue from collections is down by eighteen percent for this month alone.”
A cacophony of curses, fists pounding the table, and loud protests filled the room. Banger stood tall, eyes darting between the members. After a few minutes, he leaned forward and brought the gavel down. Silence fell.
“I’m gonna take that as a consensus that these punks need to be shut down.”
“Fuck yeah!” Rock said, echoed by several others.
“We got another problem,” Rags said, standing. “I’ve heard those fuckers are selling smack and China Girl.”
“I’m checking on that,” Hawk said. “If it’s true, they’re dead.”
Banger nodded. “We can’t have these assholes ruining what we got with the fuckin’ Feds.”
The Insurgents had an implicit deal with the Feds: keep hard drugs out of the county and the MC’s dispensaries stay untouched. There was also a tacit agreement with the local sheriff: keep Pinewood Springs clean, and certain things got overlooked.
“I’ll follow up,” Rags said. “The informant’s close to Devil’s Reign.”
Banger nodded. “You let me and Hawk know.” He took a pull from his beer. “Don’t fuck this up.”
Rags clenched his jaw. “I said I’m on it.”
“And those sonsofbitches are still wearing theColoradobottom rocker,” Blade added.
The room erupted again, and it took three strikes of the gavel to calm everyone down.
“First, we confirm the drug trade,” Banger said, voice low and steely. “If it’s true, they’re history. If not, we stomp their balls and torch their clubhouse. Are we all in?”
Cheers filled the room, fists raised. Banger and Hawk watched in silence, pride clear in their eyes. Each and every member would die for the other. The Insurgents were family, brothers, and they were loyal to the end. Andno onemessed with them.
When the noise died down, Banger smiled. “Unanimous vote, then. Devil’s Reign MC ceases to exist one way or the other.”
The members whistled and stomped their boots.
Banger struck the gavel. “Church’s over. Go have some fun.”
Chairs scraped and voices rumbled as brothers drifted toward the main room.
“What’s going on with you?” Smokey asked as he and Rags reached the bar.
“Not much. Just work,” Rags said.