I called up the Sixes’ president a few days ago, told him what was going on with Cash. I laid it out for Kilo:my plan to take over, leave his territory alone, and offered the club a shipment of guns as a show of good faith. Our buyers were pissed as fuck when I told them they weren’t getting their shit, but they got over it when I threw enough money their way. They were fuckin’ ecstatic when I connected them with the Sixes, and they realized that they could get their shipments quicker and cheaper. I can only hope they’ll keep their mouth shut about not getting the shit. Our entire fuckin’ plan rests on their silence.
“I got it under control, just gotta make sure we take Toke out of the picture before the drop.”
Tin leans forward, resting his shoulders on the table. “I got that part. Talked to our contact at the little bar we usually stop at outside of Nashville.”
I nod, remembering the woman he’s talking about. “She gonna do her part?”
“Randi will put the shit in his drink, but she’s gonna make us pay out the ass to do it.”
Rollo laughs. “As often as you give that bitch your dick, she should do this one for free.”
“It was only once,” Tin shrugs, taking a drink of his beer. “She wasn’t happy about getting involved with this shit.”
“She’s helped us before,” I say, reminding him of something he already knows.
Sitting his beer on the table, he looks me in the eye. “Yeah, she called us when people showed up in her bar, even kept her ears open for information, but she’s never had to drug an Outlaw before. It’s freaking her the fuck out.”
“We’ll keep her safe,” Rollo claims.
“I know, but I can’t convince her ass of that. She said this was the last thing she’d ever do for me. Told me to stay the fuck away from her from now on.”
My lips curve up at his words. “That’s a first for you, usually the bitch can’t stay the fuck away from you.”
Tin looks at me, and I can see something playing in his eyes. Whatever it is, it’s not good. “She’s planning on taking the money I give her and leave Nashville.”
“Could be good for her. She’s too far away for us to keep eyes on her all the time, so getting lost might be her best option.”
Tin shakes his head and his voice comes out in a growl. “She could’ve come here. I’d have kept her safe.”
With that, he stands up and walks out of the kitchen. I hear the door slam a minute later. Looking to Rollo, I shrug. “What the fuck was that about?”
He shakes his head as he gets up. “Don’t know, and right now I don’t care. We got too much shit going down to worry about one of Tin’s bitches.”
I nod in agreement, standing up from my chair. “Be here at six to ride out.”
“Will do,” He says before heading to the door.
I wait until I hear the door shut then head upstairs. When I walk inside, I see Shay lying on the bed without a stitch of clothes on. My dick jumps, happy to know it’s getting some of its favorite toy tonight. I walk straight to her, ripping my shirt over my head. My boots and jeans are gone before I climb onto the bed.
Crawling between her legs, I look into her eyes. Remembering the conversation I walked in on earlier, I smile. “So tell me, am I as good as I look?”
Show No Fear
Shay
Pulling the old truck into the driveway, my hands are shaking. Bowie left on club business two days ago, and this is the first time I’ve driven without him. I’ve been scared to death since Tag and I pulled out of the driveway. There were a few close calls but we made it to the store and back again in once piece.
“Did I do okay?” I say as I turn the key and the engine backfires, finally going quiet.
“Other than nearly side swiping the big rig, you did fine,” Tag chuckles under his breath as he reaches for the door handle to open his door.
He’s out of the truck before I can reply. Grabbing my purse, I follow behind him. I walk to the back of the truck to help him unload groceries and say, “He was in my lane.”
He shakes his head, without looking at me. “Nope. That was all on you, Shay.”
Tag has turned out to be a great friend. I’m so glad he has been here with me since Bowie left. I probably would have died of boredom without his company. “Whatever,” I mumble out, grabbing a bag from the back of the truck.
“I can’t wait to tell Bowie you nearly demolished his baby,” He says with a laugh.
I narrow my eyes at him and grab another bag. Then look at the old battered truck, a truck Bowie told me he’s had since he was in high school. To me it looks like it belongs in a junkyard but it’s special to him. “You better not say a word.”