Page 8 of The Enforcer

Oh well, we have a new nightclub. That’s just as good, right?

“Good,” Prez says. “Call Shane to see if you can get him down there to finalize shit. I want that club in my name before the sun rises. Head back to the clubhouse when you wrap up there. We can talk more in person.” He hangs up without another word.

I make a quick call to Shane. He’s probably in bed, but he’ll come if I call. When he answers, he doesn’t sound asleep, but doesn’t sound like he wants to come out of the house either. After a few clipped sentences, he blows out a long breath, but says he’s on his way.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I clap once, scaring Kirk who has been staring off into space since I got rid of his lines of coke. “This will be over soon, big guy. Let me ask you something. Why did you agree to the deal of selling all that coke if you knew you were going to snort most of it?”

Puffy lip trembling, Kirk mutters, “I didn’t plan to. I’ve just never seen that much coke before. I lost control. I’m sorry. I’m?—”

“Ugh,” I groan, holding my hand up. “Stop fucking apologizing before I put you through that fucking window.” Kirk clamps his mouth shut as much as his swollen lips will allow.

We sit in silence for about thirty minutes before there’s a knock at the office door. Kirk looks at me with wide eyes. Smirking, I say, “It’s technically still your office. Open the door.”

On shaky legs, Kirk walks over and opens the door. Shane gives him a look, then glances past him at me. “What the fuck, Zeke?”

I wave him in. “Come on. You were going to be at the clubhouse tonight anyway. Not like I woke you or anything.”

“Not the point,” he mutters, moving past Kirk to stand beside me. I stare hard at Kirk when he looks suspiciously like he’ll bolt. He shrinks under my gaze. “What do you need?” Shane asks, sounding fed up with my shit.

“I need to transfer a deed and you’re a lawyer. You can watch and make sure it’s all done right.”

Shane gawks at me. “That’s not how that works. For one, you have to put the club in escrow so it can be transferred. Then the funds are released and?—”

“None of that is happening,” I interrupt Shane. “We’re not paying for it. Kirk is giving it to us as a gift. Right, Kirk?” Kirk nods in a jerky fashion. “See?” I say to Shane with a triumphant grin. “How do we gift this place?”

Sighing, Shane says, “Fine. I’ll draw up a transfer of ownership contract. It’ll be watertight, as I’ll have a real estate attorney colleague of mine check it over. I’ll have it ready for Prez day after tomorrow.”

“Fuck yes.” Shane rolls his eyes and I wink at him. He turns a little pink as he ducks his eyes.

Again, I pull out my phone, calling Reaper, one of the club members. He’s on duty tonight, so he has the job of watching Kirk until he can go down to Shane’s office and sign the club over to us.

Once Reaper arrives and muscles Kirk out of the office, I turn to Shane. “Wanna ride on the back of my chopper to the clubhouse?”

Shane blanches. “No! That thing is a death trap.” I chuckle, knowing how strongly he feels about bikes and them not having doors. “Seriously. That’s another reason I can’t join the MC—you have to ride a motorcycle to be in a motorcycle club.”

“I’ll get you behind me one day.” I shouldn’t make that statement sound as suggestive as it does, but I can’t help it. Just because I won’t try anything with Shane doesn’t mean I can’t fuck with him.

I keep going over what Rax and Finn said to me about going for it with Shane. I should go for it, right? Stop getting in my own way? One look at Shane’s wide, almost frightened eyes at what I just said and I know it won’t happen. He’s already scared shitless of my small bit of flirting. He won’t be able to handle all of what I want to do to him.

“Come on,” I say, changing the subject so Shane will stop giving me that wide eyed look. “Let’s go get some drinks. They’re on me.”

Snapping out of it, Shane laughs. “They’re free. But thanks.”

After watching Shane drive away, I practically stomp over to my chopper, throwing my leg over it, and starting her up. The rumble under my ass is the only thing that grounds me and it clears my mind of Shane and thoughts of getting him naked.

The ride back to the clubhouse is peaceful; the scenery of Tennessee woods passing me in a blur. It’s dark, so I can’t make out much, but I’m the only one on this stretch of road. Since I’m alone, I let my mind roam.

Not back to Shane. Definitely not there. I’ve lost enough sleep trying to figure out how I can have him and still be true to the MC. I’ve come up with nothing, so I’m tired of belly aching over it. One can’t always get who one wants.

This time, my mind drifts to the nightclub we just acquired. Even though it will be in Prez’s name, it will be another acquisition for Devil’s Mayhem, making us more money than the two nail salons, the tattoo parlor, and the small restaurant we own makes us. We’re slowly but surely making our mark here in Mellbind.

I’m not sure what Prez plans to do with this one, but I don’t think he should switch it up. Maybe fix the club itself up, but not change its purpose. Kirk’s Boom Boom Room—yes, he really named it that—is a hot spot in Mellbind. The college crowd from the next town over has plenty of dumbass young people that come to spend their money in there, mainly on the coke and pills we pump through it, plus a shit-ton of alcohol. That, along with the actual partying, will add to our bottom line.

Coming up on the gate to the clubhouse, I slow down, letting the cameras spot me. Two members of the club open the gates for me and I drive through. If we had prospects, it would be their job to do that, but since Rax killed one and Finn killed the other last year, we haven’t taken on any new ones. There will have to be a more thorough vetting process me and Jace, our sergeant at arms and my equal, have to discuss.

Usually, members of the MC will put up members to be prospects, but this time around, Telly and Sam—the dead prospects—came to the clubhouse, pitching to Prez how they could be assets to Devil’s Mayhem. Suffice it to say, Prez isn’t interested in bringing any more on for a while yet.

I turn my chopper off and stuff my keys in my pocket, heading inside to see Prez. I straighten my cut, then knock on his office door. He shouts for me to enter and I step inside, taking a seat on the couch in front of his desk.

---