Reading Online Novel

Shadowing Me(2)



Well, shit. I should have kept my mouth shut.

“I’m sorry, brother,” I say as we enter the chapel and take our seats.

Smokey shrugs as he flops backwards in his leather chair. “Oh well, I’m talkin’ now. Might as well keep up the charade.”

I bark out a laugh. The motherfucker is sort of funny. Who would have thought? I reach across the table and stub out my smoke that I basically let burn between my fingers. So wasteful. I should just fucking quit, but that shit ain’t going to happen. I guess that makes me weak, but I really don’t give a shit. Chain smoking is the only thing that keeps me from wigging out on fucking idiots.

The Prez comes in, slams the door behind him, and stalks to his chair. As he sits down, he grabs the gavel and bangs it down onto the wooden plank, signaling for all attention to be directed at him.

“Breakneck brothers, it’s that time again. Time for us to discuss massive fuckin’ migraine topics,” he huffs and digs out his pad of paper and a pen.

“Shadow, I need you to escort Winter to the doctor tomorrow. I have to run some shit by Petra, and then I’ll meet ya there and you can go.”

I nod, accepting my orders.

“Max, numbers,” Prez asks as he starts to scribble down onto his notepad.

Max goes over treasury because he’s our figures guy. He reports on the dues paid and lets us know what our cuts are for the work we’ve done. He also goes over the clubhouse joint account, which we call the stack pot. Our fees go into this account to cover the club bills. Each person contributes this way.

“Zig Zag, charity runs, we got any comin’ up?”

“Naw, Prez, I’ve shifted the next two over to the lady charter. With Winter pregnant, I didn’t think you’d want to run,” ZZ says.

“Good, good. Let them bitches do it.”

He doesn’t mean that in a disrespectful way, and if anyone messes with the lady charter, it’s the equivalent of messing with us.

“All right, Angel wants to take over the Chinese nail salons. She ain’t changing her damn mind for nothing. I told her they pretty much run the gambling trade in Las Vegas, but she ain’t up for it. She says, since they make home base here, they gotta pay up. So, any ideas for how we can keep blood outta this situation?”

Not a single one of us will fight Winter on takeovers. Bad shit has happened to her, so she likes to control the situations all around us, and that includes controlling all of Jamaica, Nevada.

“Money?” Max asks if we can offer up money in exchange for them to leave first. You always offer first, bloodshed is and always will be a last resort.

An idea comes to mind. “Well, there aren’t many of them here. Hell, it’s mostly their wives and a bunch of kids. So maybe offer up some startup cash for new salon locations in Las Vegas. I mean, shit, even tell them the truth. Your wife is dead set on owning a couple of salons, and you’re tryin’ to keep the peace and all that jazz.”

“That could actually work,” he says while he writes some shit down. Prez likes to handle his own notes. The charter I was at before this, the Prez didn’t do jack but talk.

“Get me some numbers to work with out of the gold pipeline money, Max. I want this transaction to be under the table if it goes well. No traces back to us.”

No one questions the statement. My guess is he’s not trying to use Winter’s money at all for this. She’s loaded and he can’t stand it. He’s old fashioned like the rest of us. We take care of our women, not the other way around. And the fact that Winter could take care of this entire club and all the members and their family burns him deep. I think he’s still afraid if he fucks up, she has the money to leave his ass without a trail in sight, and she will disappear.

“Moving on to the BDSM club business. Shadow, you still don’t think he’ll sell?”

I rub my jaw. “Naw, Prez. If I’m bein’ honest with ya, I think it might not be easy.”

I feel like such an ass. I hate doing this to Alec, but he has screwed up time and time again by not screening the members more closely. He’s not teaching the newbies the rules and bring them up to club standards.

My blood runs hot as I think back on the time Tatiana met up with this dickhead who practiced breath play on her. ZZ was ten times hotter seeing his daughter lying on the cement of the clubhouse parking lot.

“Well, we’re Breakneck. We’ll get it handled. We can’t have that shit up in our town if it ain’t bein’ run properly.”

I can’t help but agree. BDSM, in any form, light or dark, is dangerous if the participants aren’t well versed in the practice of their choosing.