“Jimmy, we have to do something about the Sons. We have to figure out a way to replace the income that we lost when we gave up the crank business. I’m not gonna lose my house, and I don’t want to get a job and have to work for a fucking living like every other poor slob.”
Jimmy looked surprised. “Joker, no offense, man, but we should not be talking about this in front of Luke. I know he’s your kid, but he ain’t a Savage Son.”
“I can give you guys some privacy,” I said, starting to stand up.
Joker put his hand on my shoulder. “You don’t need to go anywhere. Jimmy, Luke’s my son, and even though that don’t mean much, it means that if he wants to be a part of the MC, I’ll vouch for him.”
I didn’t know what to say. It was my first day on a bike, and even though I’d enjoyed the ride, it had never occurred to me to think about becoming a Savage Son.
Jimmy looked pissed. “That ain’t the way things work, Joker. We can’t start making exceptions just ‘cause some kid shows up and says he’s related to you. You don’t even know if he’s telling the truth. He could be a fed, planted to get intel about the Sons, brother. We don’t discuss club business in front of outsiders.”
“Luke is no outsider. He may have just gotten here, but I aim to make up for lost time. I founded this MC, and I make the rules. Now, can we get back to the subject? How are we gonna make up the money we’ve lost?”
Jimmy shook his head and looked like he wanted to argue, but decided against it. “Joker, I don’t know, man. I got nothing. We know that the feds are probably watching us, and that don’t leave a whole lot of room for starting up a new operation. I’d thought about taking a page from the casinos and opening up our back room for poker games, but I’m afraid it’ll draw too much attention, and I don’t know how much money it’ll actually bring in.”
Joker lit another cigarette — the rules that governed the rest of the casino obviously didn’t apply in the room we occupied. “I got some girls ready to go back to work, but that’s only gonna make up a fraction of what we’re missing.” He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back in his chair. “I need a new idea. Something that people want that we can give ‘em and charge lots of money for.”
A thought occurred to me. I remembered the one time that I’d actually had more cash than I knew what to do with, and I knew right away that the Sons could make my idea work for them.
“I know this really isn’t my business, but have you thought about weed?”
Jimmy shook his head. “Nah, man. The feds would shut us down in a minute. And there’s not enough money in weed.”
I sat up straighter as the idea worked itself out in my head. “Hear me out. The feds aren’t going to shut you down if you’re not doing anything illegal. You live in Colorado. There’s a dispensary on every corner, selling more weed than you can imagine — and it’s all perfectly legal.”
Joker wasn’t buying it. “That’s part of the problem, Luke. That’s one of the reasons there’s no money in weed anymore. It’s too easy to get, and the shit they’re selling now is so fucking potent, one hit, and you’re stoned.”
“So you open a dispensary and you sell the best weed in town — sticky, nasty buds that will blow your mind. You’ll have people lined up around the block to get your shit because it’s so good.”
“Where the fuck do you get weed like that? And open a dispensary? There’s no way in hell they’d give us a license for that.” Jimmy waved his hand as if he wanted to dismiss the whole topic.
I held up a finger. “One, you grow it, and two, all you need is an investor, someone who’s never been in trouble with the law who’s willing to be the license-holder.”
Joker looked at me like I was speaking another language. “Luke, we’re outlaw bikers. We don’t have fucking investors, man.”
“You might be surprised.”
“And we don’t know anything about growing weed,” Jimmy added.
“I do,” I said with a smile. “When I was at ASU, my friends and I grew the best weed on campus. We started in our dorm room, believe it or not. We set up grow lights in our closet and supplied everyone on our floor. When we moved off campus, we rented a house with a basement and converted the whole downstairs to a pot farm. We had more money than we knew what to do with.”
“But can’t the cops tell when you’re growing?” Joker asked. “I heard that they can monitor your electric bill and shit.”