the hose and lowers his voice. “All of that, and for eighty fucking dollars. He didn’t even split the tip with me when it should’ve all been mine.”
“That sucks, kid, but you didn’t answer my question,” I reply. I play my fingers on the metal of my gun like a piano, but music is not what this kid has in store for him if this goes wrong. “Do we have a fucking problem?”
He rolls his eyes. “No, we don’t have a fucking problem. At least, not with you. My name’s Joe Watershed. Logan’s Beach born and bred. I know who you guys are, and I’m not going to say anything. I don’t have a death wish. My issue isn’t with you. It’s with him,” he grates. “You know, one day, I’m going to buy my own fishing boat, and take out my own charters, and I’m not going to treat my fucking staff the way that fat piece of useless shit does.”
“Watershed? You got a brother who rides with the Lawless?” I ask, the last name sounding familiar.
“Yeah, Angel,” the kid replies. A little of the anger dies away, softening his earlier murderous expression.
“Your brother would be pissed if he knew that captain was fucking you over,” I say, lighting a smoke.
“He would be fucking pissed, and he’d do something about it, but I don’t want him to. I can fight my own battles,” he says, puffing out his concave chest. “I don’t need to go crying to my brother every time someone fucks me over.”
I appreciate the kid wanting to do things on his own. Reminds me of a younger more hideous looking version of myself. “How are you going to fight this battle?” I ask, genuinely curious.
Puffing out his cheeks, he blows out a breath. “Honestly, I’m not fucking sure.”
I grin, leaning on one of the thick wooden pillars. “I think I can help.”
“How?” he asks. I offer him a smoke and my lighter, and he takes it, fanning the smoke away from his eyes.
“We chose this captain because he’s hard up for money. His boat is being repossessed. He’s got to get that money I just gave him to the bank by Monday before it hits the auction block Tuesday afternoon,” I tell him.
Joe’s shoulders slump. “If he gets the boat taken away, then I’m out of a job. How does that help me?”
“It won’t. But it will help if you drive the boat to another dock and park it there tonight. Cover it up. Then bring it back here. Park it just where it was, and go to the auction. Which is on Monday afternoon. We altered his notice.”
“But I don’t have…” he trails off when I whistle to Nine who cuts the hose and tosses me a thick envelope from his boot.
I shove the money into the kid’s hands. “You buy it. There’s two thousand more in there then I gave the captain. If he realizes it’s Monday instead of Tuesday he still won’t have the money to buy it.” I slap him on the shoulder. “Captain Watershed.”
He shakes his head in disbelief, staring hard at the money in his hand before glancing back up to me. “I don’t understand. How does this benefit you?”
“This was a one-time deal. The captain said so himself. He just needed enough money to pay off the bank and save his boat. However…” I let him fill in the blanks.
“If the boat is mine, then I can do this run for you again.”
I knew the kid was smart. Well, smart enough. I exhale smoke through my nose. “You sure as fuck can, and you keep every fucking dime from both the charters and from this.” I pat the envelope in his hands. “Except you’d make twice that every run.”
The kid smiles from ear to ear. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m in. Whatever you need.”
“Think your brother will be okay with it?” I ask, remembering that Angel is in the MC, and I ain’t about to get the kid twisted in something that would piss off a member of The Lawless. Bear, the president, is a friend of Nine’s and an associate of mine. Can’t have my name being dragged around the fucking clubhouse.
Joe scoffs. “Are you kidding? He’ll probably offer to be my first mate,” he beams.
“Now, scram, kid.” I point at him with my smoke and lower my voice. “And if anyone asks why we’re here tonight…”
“But you weren’t,” he says, running back onto the boat,