Page 24 of Raze

“Well, I don’t see you doin’ much shit right now, other than stirrin’ it. You heard what Dev said, there's guns to prepare for transportation.”

“Apologies, Prez.” Griller sounds sarcastic as he stands on his feet and heads to work.

“You headin’ off somewhere? If ya are you should take Ruck with you, he’s your sergeant,” Dev reminds me.

“I’m good takin’ this one on my own.” I head out the door toward my bike before he can argue.

“Mornin’, Raze.” Three of the club whores say my name in unison when I pass the motel. They all have fake tits spilling out of their bikini tops and I tip my chin at them as I pass.

“Hey, wait up.” One of them chases after me as I move through the arch into the parking lot.

“What can I do for ya?” I turn around and put on a polite grin for her.

“I think it’s more a case of what I can do for you.” She skims her nails over the chest of my cut and bites her lip. It’s different to the way Peyton bites hers, and I curse myself for thinking about that girl again.

“Thanks for the offer but I gotta lot to do.” I go to move away but she wraps her arm around my neck and draws me closer.

“Trinity, that’s my name, you won’t forget it will ya?” She looks at my lips as if she’s about to kiss ‘em and I quickly pull away. Something about knowing Peyton was the last person they touched makes me desperate to keep it that way, which is another fuckin’ crazy thought that doesn’t belong in my head.

“I’m sure I won’t,” I assure her, saddling my bike and nodding at Sonny to open the gate.

“I’m afraid Mr. Monkhouse is busy.” His receptionist tells me, looking me up and down like I’m a piece of shit.

“Tell him Raze is here. He’ll see me,” I assure her as I take a seat in one of the waiting room chairs and pick up a magazine from the coffee table. I smile at her over the top of it before she huffs and struts off down the corridor toward his office.

“Logan Ashford.” I look up from the article I’m reading when I hear his voice. The old man hasn’t changed much, other than his hairline receding and a few more wrinkles around his eyes.

“I was hopin’ you and I could talk on a matter I need some help with.” I place the magazine back down and stand up.

“Come through.” He clears his throat and nods at his receptionist as he leads me through to his office.

“You screwin’ that one?” I look back out the door at her as she walks away.

“Don’t be disgusting, Lucy is the daughter of a very good friend.” He shakes his head.

“Ain’t ever stopped you before.” I laugh to myself as he sits behind his desk.

“I don’t work for the club anymore.” He cuts straight to the chase, suddenly turning things serious.

I heard that, and I understand why. Cliff lost the club a lot of their assets.

“Cliff Adams is?—”

“Cliff Adams ain’t in charge anymore, I am. And I’m gonna need a decent lawyer to be on standby, someone who knows how to play dirty.” I look at all the awards he’s got in his cabinet and smile to myself.

“Like I said, I don’t work for the club anymore. In fact, I’m retiring altogether,” he tells me.

“You? Retiring?” I chuckle as I take the seat opposite him.

“Paul, can you even remember what your wife fuckin’ looks like, you live and breathe your work.”

“Yeah, well all that's changing…dodgy ticker,” he explains, tapping his hand over his chest. “My son’s taking over the firm, and he’s smart. Passed all his degrees with honors.” He looks down at a picture frame on his desk and smiles fondly.

“And how’s that daughter of yours?” His eyes flicker with something different when he looks back up at me.

“She’s happy, therapy seems to have worked.” He closes his eyes and flares his nostrils.

“That’s good to hear, Paul, real good. And I’ll bet it’s nice for her not to keep lookin’ over her shoulder,” I remind him, sitting forward in the chair and rubbing my hands together.

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