time. I roll my eyes.
“He’s at his house with Sarah, and he’s not to be disturbed,” Tongue says, throwing up air quotes. “Whatever.”
“I’m so bored,” Knives groans. “Badge still hasn’t found anything on the kid, so we’re just sitting ducks.”
My heart aches for the boy. He’s probably terrified without his Ma, and I know Dawn has been going out of her mind with worry. I hear her at night crying herself to sleep in my spare bedroom. There are times when I’ll go and lay next to her, stay awake all night and up all day, just so she knows she isn’t alone.
I have to keep avoiding her. She can’t know I’m a virgin. No grown man my age is a virgin. I think about Poodle, and why he didn’t tell me his secret, and while his is darker than mine, do I have a right to be mad at him when he doesn’t know this about me?
I don’t have time to think about it. I need cash. Now. And if Reaper isn’t available for me to ask for work, then I only have another place to go.
Maximo.
I flip open my phone and type out a message.
Me: “Any room for an extra fighter?”
Almost instantly he messages me back.
Maximo: “Always room for the best, my friend. See you in an hour.”
Shit. I only have an hour? By the time I get there, that barely gives me time to warm up, but if I can fight every opponent, I can win around fifty-grand if I’m undefeated. Maximo treats his fighters good. Every day that passes, fighting for him sounds more appealing, and if Reaper is already in business with him, what’s the big deal? I’m not breaking any rules.
Me: “I’ll be there.”
Maximo: “I know.”
I debate on telling Knives and Tongue so they can come along, but I keep my lips sealed shut. It’s better if no one knows where I go.
Over the last few months, Reaper has set up legal, safe fights for me. Ones that raise money for charity and shit, which is great, but I need more. I need blood, grit, a fight without rules. Reaper hasn’t brought anyone into the playroom for a little roughening up, so I’m getting an itch just like Tongue and Knives are.
Things are getting slow around here. Slow is good. It means there’s no trouble, but with no rival MC, no gangs, or the mafia wanting our heads, sometimes MC life can get dull. Sure, we live hard and die harder, but damn it, where’s the damn grit these days? Surely, there’s someone out there who wants to take us down.
“Where you going?” Tongue shouts after me.
“Out!” I reply, not giving him an actual answer. I fling open the door and run down the steps to see Reaper sitting on his bike and Sarah between his legs as they talk. His hands are on her ass and when they see me, Reaper juts his chin for me to come closer.
Fuck.
“Where you going?” he asks.
Shit. He knows. That’s impossible.
“I need to clear my head. Going for a ride.”
“On your way back, can you pick up another bag from Circus, Circus?”
“Another one?” the question slips out of my mouth before I can stop it, and Reaper pats Sarah on the arse, telling her to go inside.
She flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder and gives me a ‘what the fuck’ look. Yeah, what am I thinking? I keep questioning the Prez, I’m going to have to pay the price.
“Sorry, Prez. I guess I’m just getting worried. It’s a lot of money. I don’t mean to question you.”
“I’m calling Church tonight. You might not be back before then, so I’ll go ahead and tell you.” He lights a cigarette and puffs it. “Maximo is Moretti’s brother. He’s giving us sums of money the other casino owed us before it burned down. He wants to come see his brother after all the debts are paid. He knows it isn’t looking good and that he might have to take over the family business.”
“That’s why Moretti’s men haven’t been here. I bet Maximo called them.”
Reaper shrugs. “None of my fucking business. I just want us to get our cut and be done with it. And if we grow a good relationship with the mafia, that’s even better.”
“And you’re the one going to get the duffle cause I’m putting you in charge of the monies. Pirate can’t do it anymore. He’s having the title stripped. You’ve proven yourself. You question me