B - stard (Royal Bastards MC) - Sapphire Knight Page 0,1

side income. It also fronts for the more illegal businesses we take part in.

“Head down to BJ’s and pick up that new bitch. She gave some good head, and I’d like a reminder.”

“Maddy?” he asks kindly. For being a big oaf, he’s sweet on the dancers. Kind of like a puppy dog around them or some shit. Anywhere else and he’s a force to be reckoned with. I don’t mind it that he’s a softy, as long as our enemies don’t take notice. Lucky for us, we’re not buried in club wars but tend to tolerate the MCs around here, and they do the same with us.

I shrug. “Fuck if I know, brother. Never caught her name, never cared. She was new and nervous, easy on the eyes. Those types always go to their knees quickly.”

“Yeah, her name’s Madison, but the girls been callin’ her Maddy.”

“Got it,” I mutter, shifting around a few kilos. Not that I fucking care about her name, and it’d do him well to forget it as well. He’s already got a thing for one of the dancers to the point I think it’s an obsession.

“Anyone else?”

“You can see if a few of ‘em want to come back to the club and make some extra cash. I’m sure you fuckers wouldn’t mind some private dances.”

He grins. “I’ll see who’s available and be back.”

I wave him off, stuck in my head with the numbers. “Ride safe.”

We have a club brick in a lockbox in here that we use strictly for new clients to test and for when we party. Partiers have the option of buying small amounts, and it’s accessible if the brothers need to replenish their stash. We aren’t a club full of tweakers, by any means. It’s one of our more lucrative businesses, and the brothers have been made well aware it’s not an everyday thing. Blow’s the one brother with a pass to do it whenever the fuck he wants, as he’s my VP. If it gets out of hand, though, I’ll put a stop to that shit quickly. Whiskey’s the only one with a key to the box, so it allows me the chance to closely monitor the brothers’ refills and sales through our notes.

I quickly scribble down on his sheet that I took two eight balls’ worth. I transfer his latest notes onto my inventory paper and relock the box. I’ll return the key to him shortly now that I have everything I need. I’m not only a hardened biker but also a businessman, and I don’t fuck around when it comes to our product.

“Prez?” Whiskey pokes his head in the door.

“I’m here,” I rumble, making my way to him. I hand over the key.

“That was fast.”

I fold the sheet up and stick it in my wallet. It’s numbers and letters, an easy code I came up with in case I ever get searched. It’s happened in the past, so I know it’ll most likely happen again. The cops love to pull us over and pat us down whenever given a chance. “We’re low on everything, so it was easy. I’ve got deliveries already in the works. I’ve gotta get Blow to reach out to Jersey too. It’s time to take in more kilos.”

“You want me to talk to him?”

I shake my head. “Nah, he’ll be around later. I hit up Powerhouse to collect some girls; you know Blow can’t stay away when there’s pussy and cocaine nearby.”

He chuckles, running a hand over his beard peppered with gray. He’s in his early fifties, and seeing him age more these last few years has me thinking on the long-term side of things. We need to keep on the path we are now. If we stick to it, we won’t have to worry about this shit when I’m older. The brothers can be comfortable without risking their necks. The last thing I wanna do is be locked up for a chunk of my life, but I’ll peddle the drugs if it means we’ll be all right down the road.

“He better watch he doesn’t knock one of them up. Those bitches flock to his dick like it’s chocolate or some shit.”

I cough out a laugh. I wasn’t expecting that tidbit to come from him. “Fuck, man, I didn’t need that image in my mind.”

He chuckles, offering a shrug. He’s not sorry in the least. Fucker. “Spoke to your old man.”

“Oh, yeah? That bastard calls you but not his son.”

“He’s riding along the coast, sucking up

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