Page 79 of Disturbed Lucidity

“You don’t scare me, Ivy.”

I grinned evilly. “Let’s test that theory.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Luc

Sitting at the bar, drinking a beer, I was going over the latest club contract when Gunny walked in from the back smiling like all was right in his world. Since Ivy had showed up, I noticed the old man came around more often. Not that I cared. He was always welcome here. However, it was strange to see him so relaxed and giddy.

“Why are you so fucking happy?”

“Oh nothing. It’s just a beautiful day, that’s all.” The old man grinned, sitting in his favorite spot. “I’ll take a cold one, Mouth.”

“Coming right up, Gunny.”

“Gotta say, Prez. I think therapy is really doing wonders for our girl. She’s got a pep in her step today.”

“That so,” I muttered, marking out demands our current client was asking for that would never happen. It was no secret how the club made its money. Well, not to the officers, at least.

As for the rest of the patched brothers, they believed the club made money with the strip club, apartment building, and rental houses the club owned, also from helping to distribute Hell’s Breath, a top-shelf whiskey that the Sons of Hell MC created. When King approached me with the idea, I wasn’t too thrilled about getting into the liquor business, but the man made a good point. There was money to be made with whiskey. It also helped when my goddaughter Skylar called me and told me she and her old man Pyro would visit when the first shipment arrived in a few months.

Apparently, it was an easy gig. King had already called and made arrangements with several bars, clubs, and MCs up and down the West Coast, all of whom were clamoring to have his new special blend of Hell’s Inferno on their shelves. All my brothers had to do was deliver the product and make damn sure they got paid.

While that kept the club brothers busy, the officers and I, well, we worked on the club’s real purpose. Since we were all trained in one thing. One very specific skill set that set us above the rest. We used our combined knowledge to gain information and get closer to our prime objective. The reason for the club’s existence in the first place. To find and kill all those behind the execution of Col. Hercules Malpas.

The man I spent twelve years in prison for.

“Yep.” The old guy nodded, grinning when Mouth handed him a cold beer. “I was worried for nothing. Our girl is going to be just fine.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked, looking up from the contract.

“Because she’s out back right now beating the shit out of Gina.”

“Jesus Christ,” I moaned as Mouth jumped the bar, Slash bolted from the room, and Trash and Agony both grinned. Groaning, I got to my feet and sneered at the old man, “You couldn’t have led with that shit?”

“Ain’t gonna ruin my girl’s fun. Besides, the bitch asked for it.”

Making my way toward the back, I spotted Pinball and Puck shaking their heads. “It’s over with. Need to get the Plebs to get rid of the body. Ivy wasn’t fucking around, Prez.”

“She killed her?”

Pinball grinned. “Oh yeah. Bitch never had a chance.”

Puck laughed. “Ivy just snapped that cunt’s neck like a twig. It was awesome.”

“Where is Ivy now?”

“Back soaking up the sun like nothing happened. She’s even smiling now.”

Walking out back, I spotted Ivy sitting on a lawn recliner, sunglass on, facing Logic who was talking to her. Growling, I narrowed my eyes at the barely-there bikini she was wearing, showing off what belonged to me.

Across the lawn, Mouth was ordering TBAR and KROD, two of the club’s Plebs on how to clean up the mess Ivy had made when I distinctly heard TBAR say, “Got a woodchipper in the garage. We can use that.”

KROD grimaced. “Naw, ain’t cleaning up all the blood splatter. I just say we chop her up and take her for a boat ride.”

“Shark bait.” TBAR grinned high-fiving KROD. “Nice.”

“Been a while since I’ve been fishing. We can make a day of it.”

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