Page 2 of Finn

“I wanted to talk to you about two things. First, my contacts in Nevada have heard some rumblings from the Bone Breakers. The men who came out several months ago to discuss doing business out west? The Bone Breakers think you know what happened to them.”

When I was looking at working with a club that had more contacts on the West Coast, I asked Ozzy to have the Bone Breakers out for a few days and get a feel for the type of MC they ran. I trusted his judgment and wanted to make sure the two clubs could work together with the gun business I had the Black Roses handling. Three of the Bone Breakers went missing, so I assume shit went down and the MC handled it.

“Now, I’m not going to ask what happened. That’s between your clubs.” When I asked Ozzy about the meeting, he said they weren’t interested in doing business with the Bone Breakers and they weren’t the type of club my organization wanted to work with either. It’s what he didn’t say that had me looking into other avenues to get a stronger foothold in the Western market. “But since they were out here on my behest, I thought I would let you know it sounds like there’s trouble brewing on that front.”

“Thank you for letting me know.” He clearly doesn’t plan on elaborating. If Ozzy’s club had anything to do with the disappearance of the Bone Breakers, I’m certain there was a good reason for it, and it probably saved me a future headache.

“The second is Carlo Cataldi.”

Ozzy’s nostrils flare, and it looks as though if his jaw tenses any further, he’s likely to break a molar. Can’t blame the man. That fuck Carlo threatened to sell off his woman, Freya, and nearly killed Ozzy after destroying his cabin. Freya was working as a US attorney in Boston and built an airtight case against Carlo’s father, Francesco Cataldi. Francesco was head of the Cataldi family until a few months ago. After the Italians busted into this very clubhouse just over fifteen years ago and shot Freya when she was barely eighteen, she had a score to settle—and settle she did. If there’s anyone in the state of Massachusetts who hates the Cataldis as much as my family, it’s probably Ozzy and the rest of the Black Roses.

“There’s been no sign of him,” I continue. “My source on the inside tells me his capos have no idea where he slithered away to, but he doesn’t think Carlo’s down for the count. It’s only a matter of time before he resurfaces. Right now, his organization is still floundering with him in the wind. It doesn’t hurt our cause that he was the one making deals with the skin traders. Thankfully, his capos don’t have his connections, but that could and probably will change.”

My hope is we can prevent any of them from taking over the trafficking empire Carlo was trying to build under our noses. It’s no secret that my family doesn’t stand for anyone hurting women, especially the sick fucks that buy them. That asshole kept his crew tight. Even my inside man didn’t know details about who Carlo was dealing with, and he’s been there for a few years now.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the visit, but you could have told me this over the phone. Why the face-to-face?”

I study the whiskey in my glass and take a sip before answering as honestly as I can. “Because I’m a man of honor, Ozzy. I told you we would handle the Italians, and we failed. You and I have always had a good working relationship, and I let you down. The Cataldi situation took us by surprise. I don’t like surprises, especially when they get my friends kidnapped and nearly killed.” I especially don’t like this weight of responsibility I’ve been carrying around. “I wanted to make the trip out here to tell you personally, man to man, that we’re more determined than ever to handle the Italian situation. It won’t touch you or your club again.” And I’m about to make a move that will ensure I can keep my word.

Ozzy stretches his arm over the desk and holds out his hand for me. “Thank you, Finn. I appreciate the heads-up. If you need us, you know where to find us.”

Grasping his hand, I nod. “Appreciate that, Ozzy. We’ll be taking it from here.”

When I release his hand, I lean back in my chair and take another sip of whiskey. “How’s Freya?” I heard through the grapevine, a.k.a. my brother, that she wasn’t doing very well after the attack. The wide smile on Ozzy’s face tells me that’s no longer the case.

“She’s good. Been working with the women at the shelter, helping them sort their legal shit.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “The assholes who hurt those women won’t know what hit them once Freya is through with them in court.”

I was relieved when Eoghan told me Ozzy’s old lady had decided to leave the US attorney’s office after putting Francesco Cataldi, Carlo’s father, behind bars. She’d made a name for herself as a battle-ax during her time there. Doing business with a club with such close ties to a federal prosecutor had my old man and brother on edge.

“Good to hear. I hope she gives them the hell they deserve.”

One of the reasons I’ve always liked working with the Black Roses is they feel the same way my family and I do about the pieces of shit who hurt women. There aren’t a lot of men like us who hold their business partners to such a high standard, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. And I know the man across from me feels the same.

“Now, let’s talk some business. There’s a new shipment coming into port down South in two weeks.”

“Not that I don’t mind the work, Finn, but with Cataldi in the wind, have you considered moving on the ports in Boston? It seems like a hell of a lot less risk for everyone involved.”

Our shipments have never gone through the Port of Boston for that exact reason. Cataldi controls those ports, and I refuse to give that man a dime in taxes. “I’m working on something.” Nothing has been solidified yet, but an offer, shall we say, has landed in my lap that would push Cataldi out for good.

We hash out the details for the run in a couple weeks and finish our drinks before I stand to head for the door.

“I’ll walk you out,” Ozzy says, coming around his desk.

When we step into the main room of the clubhouse, I spot my brother looking at the pool table with a frown marring his face and a smile of triumph on Jude’s.

“One of these days, I’m going to beat you at pool,” my brother grumbles.

“But not today,” Jude replies with a satisfied smirk.

“Don’t gloat, brother,” Linc says, smiling at Jude behind his cup of coffee. “Or I’ll call Lucy down here and tell her you wish she were here so you had some stiffer competition.”

Jude stiffens and lifts his chin before shooting his friend a narrow look. “I’m not afraid to play Lucifer.”

Linc laughs. “You might not be afraid to play her, but I’ll certainly enjoy watching her knock you down a peg or two.”

I remember Eoghan saying something about Jude’s old lady being some pool-playing phenom.

“She doesn’t win every game, mate.”

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