Page 26 of The Enforcer

A light chuckle leaves his lips as he lies beside me. “Good morning, Enforcer. You gotta go?”

My lips turn down in a frown as I nod. “Just for a few hours. Prez got a call that someone reported drugs at the clubhouse. Our guy in the precinct is going to send us the audio file to see if we can figure out who.”

Sitting up straighter, Shane says, “I need to come too.” He tosses the sheet from his legs and starts to stand.

I grab his shoulder and hold him steady. “You can’t. Not yet. We’re not even supposed to have the recording. It’ll look fishy if our lawyer just happens to be there in case the police want to stop by. People know we hang out, but let’s not push it.”

Shane looks as if he’s debating if him staying is the best course of action. To further convince him, I say, “Prez would have called you or told me to tell you to join us. That means he doesn’t need you right now. If shit goes down, he’ll give you a call.”

“It’s my job to represent the club,” Shane mutters, looking like he’s still wanting to climb out of bed and get dressed.

“You’re right. But we don’t need representation right now. It’s club business, baby.”

That gets through to him. One thing Shane doesn’t try to intrude on is club business. “Yeah, okay. You’re coming back, right?” He gets comfortable in bed, still not looking happy about having to stay here.

“Yep. Prez said it should only be a few hours.” Sitting up, I pull him close to me, not worrying about the cum drying between us. “I’m sorry our weekend got ruined.”

“Me too. But it’s okay. I know what I’m getting into now that you’re mine.”

I kiss the top of his head. “Let’s get cleaned up. The sooner I leave, the sooner I can get back so you can suck my dick.”

Shane laughs, climbing out of bed and dragging me to my feet so we can wash up.

After our shower, I give him a quick kiss, promising to come back as soon as we wrap everything up.

It only takes about thirty minutes to ride to the clubhouse, my mind racing the entire time. Whoever decided they wanted to drop a dime on us fucked with the wrong club. Between me, Prez, and Jace, it won’t be a good day for them when we track them down.

I make my way to Prez’s office after I arrive at the clubhouse, greeting brothers as I pass them. A few look hungover as fuck, but it’s all hands on deck since we may have an issue with someone trying to interrupt our business.

Prez is in the library at the head of the table, looking every bit as deadly as he is. His usual scowl is in place, as well as a dip in his eyebrows that I’ve come to know as him being pissed off beyond words. It’s best for everyone to stay out of his way and not push him, me included.

I take a seat in a chair a few down from him so other members can take their rightful spots. I nod my hello and Prez dips his head in acknowledgement.

It doesn’t take long for the table to fill up, all members present. Everyone sees the look on Prez’s face and keeps their mouths shut, not risking getting their asses beat for popping some shit.

When the last person steps inside, they shut the door and Prez stands. All eyes land on him. Without preamble, Prez says, “Someone left an anonymous tip that we stashed drugs here. I’m sure they’ll have some pigs come and do a search when they get the warrant signed. I’m only going to say this once. If anyone has some shit on them, no matter how small, get rid of that shit now.”

No one moves because no one is stupid enough to bring any drugs here. Besides, none of us use anything stronger than weed. It’s stupid to get high on the same shit you sell. And if we did have drugs on us, it would be the shit we were selling, not to use.

After a few beats, Prez continues. “I got my hands on the file so we can figure out who the fuck this guy is. I listened to it a few times and don’t know who it could be. If you recognize this cabron, let me know so I can bury him.”

Everyone nods in agreement as Prez presses play on his phone. A high, shrill voice blasts through the Bluetooth speaker Prez has on the table.

“Hi, yes. I want to report a crime done by the Devil’s Mayhem Motorcycle Club. They are selling crack cocaine. They have a stash of it at their headquarters. Get there soon. They will move it if you delay. They have them wrapped in plastic and stashed all over. You’ll have to search everywhere to find it.”

Prez presses stop and looks around at all of us. I don’t recognize the voice. I can’t even pinpoint if it’s a man or woman. Everyone else has a questioning look on their face too, wondering who it could be that snitched on us.

“No one?” Prez asks and we shake our heads. “I figured. I’m not sure who it is, but we need to flush this bitch out. I want them brought to me as soon as we figure out who it is. Got it?”

Jace steps forward, speaking up. “They said we’d move our drugs soon. You think they know about the charity ride?”

“Possibly,” Prez says, clenching his jaw. “That’s why we’re not going to be moving the kilos through the ride. I already spoke to our customers, so they know what’s up. We need to get them their product, but we’re not going to be stupid about it. We’re going to run this ride clean, do our annual fundraiser and come back home.”

“I can take it a few weeks after,” I say, drumming my fingers on the table. “Drive instead of riding, keeping the cops off our trail.”

Prez nods, tapping two fingers on his lips. “That’s a good plan. Reaper, you’ll go with him when it’s time to make the run. Don’t fuck this up.” Reaper drops his head but acknowledges that he heard Prez.

We break after that and I follow Prez back to his office. I shut the door and sit on the couch, eyeing him. “Think it was the Spiders?”

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