Shane drove his Harley carefully along a winding dirt trail, cursing the entire time, and tried to make sure he didn’t ride over anything that would puncture his tire. The meeting was being held on a ranch, and the gathering place was a few miles behind the ranch house. The only way to reach it was along dirt trails that had been made by ATV’s. They were built for paths like this, he thought as he swore and tried to stay upright. His Harley wasn’t.
Finally he glided around a stand of oak trees, and saw the pavilion nestled by the river. It was a beautiful spot, and if he’d been camping, it would be perfect. Unfortunately he was here on club business. The rest of the senior members were already there, and several were pointing at their watches.
“Sorry I’m late, guys,” he said tiredly, and swung a leg over his bike.
Rowdy was already there, laughing with Coke as he approached the picnic table. “What was her name, Shane?” he asked loudly. “Or was it a he?”
It was the kind of treatment he’d expected for running late, so he only grinned when the other members laughed. He flipped Rowdy the finger, along with a vigorous “Fuck you,” before taking the beer another member offered him.
“My old lady,” he said clearly.
The laughter quickly died, and he got a round of confused looks. They didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Only Rowdy did, and he gave Shane a pleased thumbs-up.
Coke grabbed him and tucked him into a light headlock. “Who the fuck is your old lady, Shane?” he teased, rubbing his knuckles in Shane’s hair. “Rowdy doesn’t count!”
He pushed the big man away, and punched him on the shoulder. Then he glanced around the assembled men, and saw that they were waiting for an answer. He was a private person, and while he’d played with the club’s groupies, he’d never gotten serious with any of them. They were all eager to know who he’d chosen.
“Raven,” he said simply, then laughed when the table erupted in cheers, high fives, hugs, and assorted congratulations. They all liked and respected her…and since she’d been married to a former club member, they were already comfortable with her.
“What about that little hottie you were banging?” Coke asked. “Y’know, the one with the freak husband?”
“History,” he shrugged, and hoped they’d leave it at that.
“History for Shane, anyway,” Rowdy piped up with a sly chuckle. “I’m going to bang her one of these days.”
They all knew Rowdy’s reputation with the ladies, so they only shook their heads in wry amusement, then sat back down. Rowdy would never change.
Lobo knocked on the table and called the meeting to order.
“I speak for all of us when I say congratulations,” he told Shane. “Let us know when you two are going to tie the knot, and the club will throw you a helluva wedding!”
He waited patiently for the rambunctious cheers to die down, then rapped on the table again. “All right, all right!” he exclaimed. “Why don’t you give us an update?”
That was why he was there, so Shane nodded and glanced around, meeting everyone’s eyes, before starting. “Okay. Things are good. Damned good, actually, and getting better. The food trucks easily process all the product we need, and we have room to grow. Rowdy and I have four…almost five…delivery girls who deliver our product to our growing list of customers. The operation is running smooth, and we’re focused on keeping it that way.”
“Great job,” Lobo said, and the others nodded their agreement.
“The Mexicans are cool with our arrangement…well, as cool as they’ll ever be,” he amended with a slight frown. “I honestly expected more problems from them.”
Lobo fixed Rowdy with a narrow-eyed glare. “You still need to avoid them,” he warned. “We have a good thing going, but I know some of them would love to nail your scalp to the wall.”
Rowdy silently nodded.
“Our customers love our product, and don’t mind our method of delivery and payment, so we’re all good.” Shane finished, and sat down. “Bottom line…things are fucking great!”
“Threats?”
“Always,” he admitted. “Law enforcement is first on the list. We don’t have any indications that they’re onto our operations. I’m sure they’re hearing through the grapevine about what we’re doing, but so far we haven’t seen anything that even smells like pork. Obviously we’re keeping a close eye out.”
Shane paused and waited to see if there were questions. No one had any, so he kept going. “Delivery girls,” he said, and looked around the table. “We used to call them mules, but Rowdy went all politically correct on me, so now we’re calling them our delivery girls.” He smirked a little as a collective groan echoed around the table. “Anyway, the demand for our product is hovering right below our ability to deliver. Bottom line, we need more delivery girls, and we need help managing them.”
“How much help?” Lobo asked.
“I want to keep this close to the vest, so I really only need one guy—but I need him on a full-time basis,” he said seriously. “I took the liberty of talking to Coke about it, and he’s onboard, but we’d have to find a new Sergeant-At-Arms.”
“I’ve got someone in mind already to replace me,” Coke jumped in, “and I think he’s ready.”
“Good,” Lobo nodded. He’d always encouraged them to think for themselves, and it was nice to see Shane and Coke taking the lead. “Shane, you take Coke, and we’ll hold an election soon for the new Sergeant-At-Arms.” Then he turned to the big man. “You’re not really replaceable, Coke, and you’ve done a great job, so you’ll be sorely missed.”
Lobo’s praise meant the world to Coke, and he flushed with pleasure. “Thanks, boss.”
“Anyway,” Shane said, bringing the table back to business, “Rowdy and I are working a few more delivery girls so that we can stay ahead of the demand. It’s a good problem to have, guys.” He smiled, and was heartened when they all smiled back at him.
“Moneywise, we’re doing great,” he said, and motioned to Lobo. “The boss gets the money and distributes it to the club, but all of you know we’re doing fucking great.”
They all had plenty say about that, too, and they said it loudly and happily. Everyone at the table had personally benefited from Shane’s operation.
Finally Lobo stood, and surveyed the table. “Shane’s right. The club is doing great,” he said proudly. “We’ve been able to make stronger alliances with the larger clubs around the country, and they’re even sending people down to talk to Shane. They want to learn his system. Bottom line…we’re a much stronger club today, we’re better financed, and we have stronger alliances than we’ve ever had before.”
The news was great, but he said it in such a way that they all sat quietly, waiting for him to finish. “Now is not the time to fuck up,” he said pointedly. “Now is the time to be more fucking careful. Understood?” They all nodded. “Keep an eye on your surroundings. Watch each other’s backs. Talk to the younger members, and remind them to keep their fucking mouths shut to anyone outside the club.” His voice was hard as iron. “The biggest threat to this club is stupidity.”
He met each of their eyes to really drive the point home, then glanced at Coke. “Talk to us about our Prospects.”
The big man stood up, and squared his massive shoulders. “Well, first, we’re getting a ton of requests to join the club—even from members of other clubs—and we’re turning them down.
“We have two members who are close to their year mark, and they’re doing well. One is Brian, who everyone calls ‘Brick,’ and Cliff, a local guy who’s been working as a bartender. Rowdy’s been mentoring them, and he thinks they show some promise. He wants to start them working in the food trucks. They’re both working damned hard to fit into the group, and they seem committed.”
He took a long drink of his beer, and let out a loud belch before continuing, “I have to say, they’ve both impressed me, which you all know isn’t easy. Lobo and I talked, and we’re extending the time someone spends as a Prospect, because we need to be absolutely sure about them. These two probably have another year or two to go, but like I said, they’re promising.”
Lobo nodded his head approvingly, so he sat back down. “Any questions or other business we need to discuss?” he demanded, looking at each of them in turn.
Silence. He waited a moment longer, than loudly smacked the picnic table. “All right. The last thing I’ll say is that I want each of you to take time and talk to the newer club members. It’s more important than ever to be careful, and make sure we’re taking care of business the right way. We’re growing, and attracting attention from a lot of different areas. Let’s make sure we keep a tight lid on our operations and people.” He scanned the table one last time, then nodded. “We’re done here. Good luck navigating that fucking trail back to the road!”
Hugs and fist-bumps were exchanged as the bikers headed for their Harleys. Finally only Lobo, Shane, and Rowdy were left. The younger biker looked uncertainly between his partner and the club president.
Shane flashed him a rueful smile. “Sorry, dude, this is private…old lady shit. Believe me, you don’t want to hear it.”
Rowdy laughed and mimed running away, then cheerfully flipped his partner off, kicked his bike into gear, and headed back the way they’d come.
“Speaking of old ladies,” Lobo smiled, and held out his hand. “Congrats again. I know a lot of the guys were hoping you’d find someone, and Raven is universally liked and respected in the club.”
“Thanks, Boss.” Shane lifted one shoulder in a rueful shrug. “I wasn’t comfortable with it at first, but after she got divorced, and then her ex-husband died in prison, I decided to take the plunge.”
“Yeah. It was hard to hear about her husband, but the dumb fucker did it to himself,” Lobo said disgustedly.
Somehow he’d managed to overdose. There wasn’t any hard proof, but speculation ran high that he’d killed himself because he couldn’t do the time.
“She was broken up at first,” Shane murmured, “but she’s a lot better now.”
“That’s good.” Lobo clapped him on the shoulder, then shifted to business. “So what’s the deal with Jingles?”
Shane studied him for a moment, then asked, “Boss, you remember how you were uncomfortable using mules, especially if we were using Meth to control them?”
“Yeah. It still bothers me.”
“Well, Jingles has a solution,” he said seriously, “and you need to hear about it. He’s tied into a few large organizations in major cities. One of the things they specialize in is human trafficking.”
Lobo looked baffled for a moment; then his eyes widened in sudden comprehension.
“Yes,” Shane continued, answering the question he hadn’t asked. “When we’re done with the girls, or we think they might be a risk to the club, Jingles is willing to buy them from us. He’ll take them off our hands, pay us, and guarantee they’ll never be a risk to the club.”
Lobo looked skeptical. “How can he guarantee that? How do we know he won’t use them as leverage against us?”
“First, he can’t use them as leverage without exposing his own organization to the same risk,” Shane pointed out. “Second, he makes a ton of money off the prostitution side of his business, so he’s motivated to keep it running smoothly. And finally,” he said earnestly, “I trust him. He saved my ass in prison a few times, and he’s always kept his word to me.”
Lobo slowly nodded. “So Jingles buys them from us, and they disappear…”
“When we’re finished with them, yes,” Shane said heavily.
They fell silent for several minutes, and Shane knew Lobo was wondering the same things he was. They were both hardcore bikers who’d embraced the outlaw lifestyle, and they’d both seen some hard and brutal shit. This ranked at the top of the Really Nasty Shit List. If they chose this option, could they live with it?
“I can see why you don’t want the other members to know about this arrangement,” Lobo finally murmured. “It’s cold-blooded as hell.”
“It’s business, boss,” Shane said firmly. “We don’t make the girls use Meth…they do that themselves. And they sure as hell don’t refuse the money we pay them. They fucking love that part.
“The club comes first, right? Well, this is a way to make sure we’re covered on the back end, and it keeps our best customer happy. The Blades also stay out of the murder business, so it seems like a win-win to me.”
“It is that,” Lobo reluctantly agreed. “Okay. You’re approved to work with Jingles on this part of the operation. And you were right to keep this between us, because some guys in the club won’t approve. They have daughters. So we keep this close, understood?”
“I do, and thanks.” He decided not to tell Lobo that he’d already used Jingles’ ‘solution’ with one of their delivery girls. It was done…history. He had Lobo’s approval now, and that was all that mattered. He’d also given Lobo the cash Jingles had paid for her, so there were no money issues. No one ever held money back from the club. There wasn’t a quicker way to end up dead than embezzling money from the Lone Star Blades.
“So when are you tying the knot?” Lobo asked, changing the subject with obvious relief.
“Honestly, boss, I don’t know,” Shane admitted with a laugh. “I proposed the other night…got down on one knee, the whole bit. Raven started laughing and crying at the same time. I told her she’s in charge of anything wedding-related, and to just let me know the date and I’ll show up on time.”
Lobo chuckled. “Good plan. Just remember the golden rule.”
“What’s that?”
“When Momma’s happy, everybody’s happy!”
They shared a laugh, then chatted quietly for several more minutes. Lobo watched Shane as he talked about his upcoming wedding, and saw the club’s future reflected back at him. Shane was perfect for his job…not now, of course, but in about ten years he’d be ready. He had the perfect temperament for leadership, and Lobo needed a new second in command. The club’s current Vice President was older, and wanted to retire.
It’s time to start grooming Shane for the Number Two slot.
Tim left work early, and broke half a dozen speed laws to rush home and catch Crystal before she left for work. She was leaving earlier and earlier, and they hadn’t had any time alone in weeks. Then he thought back, and corrected himself: it had actually been more than a month since he’d seen her during the week for more than a few minutes. Weekends were the only time they saw each other now, and they tried their best to reconnect, but it just wasn’t enough time.
He pulled his Honda into the driveway next to hers, and almost sprinted into the house. “Hey, baby,” he called as he entered the trailer.
Crystal wasn’t in the front room or kitchen, so he headed back to the bedroom. He found her in the bathroom doing her makeup. She was dressed in street clothes, and he heaved a silent sigh of relief. Thank goodness she never wore her club dresses outside the club, because she stopped traffic in her club wear.
He carefully kissed her cheek. “Wow, you’re gorgeous!”
“Thank you,” she smiled, and glided a dusting brush over her cheeks. “How was work?”
He sat down on the edge of the tub, and enjoyed simply looking up at her. “It’s good. Actually, it’s really good,” he said with a smile. “My team is doing great, and the management team seems happy with me, so I have no complaints. The partners have even allowed LeAnn and me to work on some of the firm’s larger accounts, so I’m getting a ton of actual hands-on experience. It’s been cool.”
She shifted to a smaller brush, and smiled at him in the mirror. “That’s great, honey. And school? How’s that going?”
“Ugh!” he groaned. “It’s tough. Tougher than I thought it would be, but I’m getting through it. I was able to move up to an A in my hardest class, but the final is a practical final, and it’s going to cover everything we’ve learned so far.”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured, completely focused on her makeup.
He hid an amused smile. He’d learned long ago that Crystal didn’t understand accounting at all, and most times she just humored him. It didn’t bother him, though, because most people didn’t get accounting.
“Anyway, school’s going good, and I’m close to graduating. I only have two more semesters, and then I can start studying for my CPA exam.”
“That’s great!”
“Thanks,” he said. He looked down at his feet for a moment before broaching the next subject. “I was hoping that when I graduate, I could get a job in San Antonio, and we could maybe think about starting a family.”
His voice was soft, careful, and he finished with a hopeful smile. Crystal continued to put on her make-up, but tension crept into her arms and shoulders. Her movements became shorter, and her ponytail bobbed in a way that clearly communicated she wasn’t happy. He sighed quietly, not wanting to make it worse, but he was serious about changing their lives after he graduated.
“Tim,” she started patiently, and then she put down her makeup. She met his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. “Honey, I know you want to start a family, but I’m not sure I’m ready yet.”
“Well, we still have time, Crystal,” he said quickly. “I won’t graduate for another nine to twelve months, provided I get the classes I need, and I still have to find a job in San Antonio. I definitely don’t want to fight about it.”
She nodded shortly, and put a cap back on the utensil she’d been using. “I know, baby, but I’m really having fun right now, and I don’t know that I’ll be ready even if we wait a year,” she said softly.
They’d been having the same conversation for months now, and there was no forward progress. Crystal sensed her husband was upset, and sat down next to him. She put her arm around him, and gently kissed his cheek.
“Tim, I’m not saying never. I’m simply saying I’m not ready yet. We’re still young, and we have plenty of time,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.
“It doesn’t seem like you’ll ever be ready,” he said bitterly, and jerked his head away. “All you seem to care about is dancing at the club.” He stood up and looked her in the eye. “When you started dancing, you said it was temporary, and that you’d stop if I asked. Is that still true? Are you ever going to quit dancing, Crystal?”
Her eyes suddenly narrowed, and she got right in his face, poking his chest with her finger. “Listen. I’m a grown fucking woman, and if you can’t handle that I’m a stripper, too fucking bad! Go to therapy, buy a dog, but find a way to fucking deal with it,” she snarled, and took a quick breath. “I like what I do, and I’m good at it. The club, and Rowdy, are part of my life now. You need to deal with it.”
Tim blinked in surprise. “Rowdy’s part of your life now? When the fuck did he become part of your life?” His voice rose with each word.
Crystal turned back to the mirror.
“Crystal,” he said quietly. “When did Rowdy enter the picture?”
“Rowdy came by the club earlier this week, and we talked for a long time. He wants to see me now.”
Tim was shocked at her casual attitude.
It’s like high school all over again. Why can’t she see that?
Suddenly she grinned at him in the mirror, and wiggled her eyebrows seductively. “Don’t worry. Rowdy said he didn’t mind if you watched once in a while,” she giggled, and neither of them missed the thinly-veiled contempt in her voice. “He’ll let you know when you can watch, though…otherwise he wants me all to himself.”
He looked stunned and hurt…and when she looked for the glint of excitement that usually showed itself, it wasn’t there. He’d enjoyed watching her with Shane, but now she wondered if he still felt the same.
Despite numerous opportunities, she hadn’t been with anyone except Shane since she’d married Tim. Nothing had happened with Rowdy yet, and she was only considering being with him…but she’d wanted to see how Tim reacted.
He’s cute, and Lauren said he’s lots of fun. Besides, things have changed now that Raven and Shane are getting married.
The other reason she was looking seriously at Rowdy was because he’d supply her Meth whenever she wanted it, and that was surprisingly important to her. But it was a package deal, he’d hinted. Meth and sex. She couldn’t have one without taking the other.
That was an easy decision because she liked Meth, and she liked having sex with cute bikers.
She was glad Meth was part of her life now; it made her a better, more alive person. And Rowdy was cute, allegedly really good in bed, and he’d supply her with Meth.
Simple.
She’d been able to hide her habit from Tim because they rarely saw each other during the week, and she only used it once she reached the club. So far, he was none the wiser. She was privately annoyed that he’d come home early; she wanted to leave, reach the club, and enjoy another hit of Meth.
I can stop anytime, she told herself. I control Meth. It doesn’t control me. She recited that mantra more and more frequently.
Tim’s voice dragged her from her reverie, and back into her half-speed life. She eyed him with thinly-veiled irritation. He was keeping her from making the club’s deliveries, and getting another hit of Meth. Even though he didn’t know she was using Meth, it wasn’t fair…he was being so selfish!
“Did you hear me?” he asked, frustrated.
She checked her makeup one last time, then glanced at him in the mirror. “No,” she sighed. “I didn’t hear you. What’s your problem?”
“I said, I’m not comfortable with you being with Rowdy.”
Angrily she spun around. “Well, get comfortable with it. It’s happening. This was your fantasy, and I fulfilled it with Shane. You loved it. Now I’m fulfilling it with Rowdy. Deal with it.”
His eyes widened. “Or what?”
She wasn’t quite ready to issue an ultimatum, so she contented herself with glaring at him. “Just deal with it, Tim, okay? It’s not a big deal, and you get something out of it, too.”
“No, I don’t. Not anymore,” he said softly. “It was fun for a while, but it’s not fun anymore. It’s history, so put it behind you. I don’t want you to be with Rowdy. I’m your husband, Crystal, and I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”
She knew it was irrational and unfair, but she couldn’t help feeling disgusted. A real man would have put his foot down…but not her gentle husband. He pleaded with her. She vividly remembered the various men her mom had shacked up with. When they’d said ‘no,’ they’d enforced it with a slap or two. Her mom had always fallen right into line.
Real men didn’t take shit from their wives…but Tim did. So she knew he’d give in eventually.
Cleverly she changed tactics, and hugged him tightly. “Please, Tim,” she murmured, “just think about it, and we can discuss it later. Okay?”
He sighed. “Okay. Promise me we’ll talk about it some more before you and Rowdy get together.”
“Of course!” she quickly agreed. “Y’know, Tim, why don’t you talk to him about it? You’ll probably feel better when you realize he’s not a bad guy.”
That wasn’t the point, and he was certain she knew it. “Crystal,” he hedged, “I trusted Shane. We were friends for a while before he rejoined his motorcycle gang, or club, or whatever it’s called. It was different with him. Rowdy’s never liked or respected me, and I don’t want him to be part of our lives on any level.
She couldn’t deny that; Rowdy had told her several times that he didn’t think much of Tim. She decided to speak with him tonight, and see if she could get him to be friendlier.
If he wants to get between my legs, he’ll have to be nicer to Tim, she thought with an inner smile.
“He’s a decent guy,” she repeated. “I’ll talk to him, and we’ll work this out. But no matter what happens, I love you, and that will never change.”
“I love you, too,” he said softly.
She kissed him on the cheek. “I’ve got to get going,” she apologized, then snapped her fingers. “Why don’t we have a barbeque on Saturday, and invite Rowdy? We can all talk, and get more comfortable with each other.”
He forced a smile. “I’m okay with inviting Rowdy to a barbeque, but I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable with him being with you.”
“Just give it some thought, that’s all I’m asking. See you later!” Quickly she gathered her things, kissed him again before leaving the trailer, and slid into her car. She was right on time…her shift didn’t start until ten, but leaving at five would give her plenty of time to make her deliveries.
Perfect.
As she started the engine, she glanced back and noticed Tim watching her through the window. He checked his watch, then shook his head. She suspected he was wondering why she’d been leaving so early. So far he hadn’t asked any questions, but she knew she’d have to come up with an explanation eventually.
She checked the new phone she’d gotten from Shane. Sure enough, there was a text indicating where she’d pick up the coolers. At first she’d been worried, scared, and excited about making deliveries for Shane, but her fears had quickly faded. Now it was just exciting.
The money he paid her was nice, and she kept it to herself. Her normal earnings were placed in their little safe, and Tim kept scrupulous notes so he could report it accurately. Her delivery money never made it to the safe. She kept the envelopes in her lingerie drawer, and once or twice a month she took them to her mother’s house for safekeeping. At first she’d rationalized the deception by planning to buy Tim something nice. Then she’d told herself it was for their future. Finally she’d just admitted that it was her money, and she didn’t want to explain where it came from.
She always looked forward to her last delivery, because she liked talking and flirting with Jingles. He was funny, extremely attractive, and he never stopped trying to get her to dance at his club. That was really flattering! She could hardly believe she’d been delivering coolers to his club for over a year. But now that Raven was getting married, and had stopped stripping, she was lonely enough to seriously consider his offer.
Shane’s business was obviously doing well, because at first she’d only delivered three coolers. Now she was delivering up to six every time. The system he’d established worked perfectly, and she was never bothered. In fact, she was treated like a VIP whenever she dropped off a cooler. She’d never seen that creepy old man from her first delivery again, and figured Jingles must have fired him.
Her GPS was invaluable, because the addresses changed all the time. Only Jingles’ club was constant, and that was fine with her. Cheerfully she plugged in this newest one, turned on the radio, and sang along as she cruised down the road. She’d already forgotten her conversation with Tim, and was looking forward to seeing Jingles again. She loved his smile, easy laughter, and beautiful brown eyes.
He’s definitely better looking than Rowdy, she thought hungrily. I wish I could get my Meth from him. I’d drop Rowdy in a second if Jingles would hook me up.
The small, quiet yearning she thought of as her Meth hunger began to hum in the back of her mind. It needed to be fed more often now…but she had some at the club. She’d be fine.
Briskly she pulled behind a nondescript building, and found a new person waiting for her. She jolted in alarm because he was enormous. But he was wearing the same type of jacket Shane always wore, so she figured he was part of the Blades’ motorcycle club. She managed a shaky smile as she pulled up next to him.
“You Crystal?” he demanded in a deep, forbidding voice.
“That’s me.”
He nodded. “Pop your trunk.”
She quickly obeyed. He disappeared behind her car, and she heard several light thumps. Then he slammed the trunk, ambled back around, and handed her an envelope. He was so tall that he had to bend over to reach her window.
“You’re all set. Check your phone for the delivery addresses,” he rumbled, then turned and headed back into the building.
A low-grade thrill of excitement rushed through her as she glanced in her rearview mirror. Was that Cliff working just inside the door? And he was wearing a biker’s jacket!
Holy shit! When did he join the Blades? That’s so unlike him!
Shrugging, she popped the envelope into her glove compartment, then turned her radio back on. San Antonio was over an hour away. She’d get the first delivery address before she reached the outskirts.
In the meantime…life was good!