Page 91 of Nevada

“Immigrants are for peasants,” he spits. “Got me some fine women thanks to the Carusos. Since their entire army was annihilated, it’s only helped business along, if you get my drift.”

The Carusos may have only been prominent in Texas and New Orleans, but their wrath was felt all over the country. And some, like this asshole, are thriving on the loss.

I glance around. “So, what do you have and how do we get some?”

His eyes level on me. “Firstly, who was the friend you speak of?”

Years of being in an MC and having to deal with unpleasant situations mean that I don’t react on instinct. I have no fucking clue, because I didn’t speak to the security, or grab his name, but before me, Haze or Brew can answer I hear, “They’re with me.”

I turn and look over my shoulder.

No fucking way.

Bane Adler.

The goddamn Ridgehaven Hellions prez. What the fuck is he doing here?

He’s a big guy. Has a mean look about him, but he still manages to draw looks from everyone around him. He has mid-length hair that is tied back by a bandana and light, almost clear, blue eyes with dark scruff.

He glances at each one of us, and though I’ve never met him in person, he clutches a hand on my shoulder. “Good to see you, Nevada.”

And now he knows my fucking name?

Jefferson laughs. “Well, next time let me in on anyone you’re bringing beforehand. These guys almost left with holes in them.”

Brew snorts, earning him looks from Jefferson’s henchmen.

I turn and we clench hands as I half-stand, giving him a shoulder bump. “Good to see you too, old friend.” He gives the same treatment to Brew and Haze, and they mask their surprise well. This has to be fuckin’ Cash. There is no way Bane just knew to show up here unannounced. As he moves, I glance behind him and see five other men, all dressed in Ridgehaven Hellions Mississippi cuts. They look like a mean bunch, and I’m suddenly glad we’re on their good side, at least, I think we are.

He also says nothing about the NOLA Rebels MC.

He takes a seat next to me. “So, what did I miss?”

Asshole Jefferson fills him in, and Bane does a good job of looking interested. “Amazin’ how you haven’t sent any bitches my way.” He shakes his head. “Guess it’s not what you know around here, right, Monty?”

The other man’s nostrils flair at the sound of his first name. “Now. Now. I always give you first dibs on all the good funs. It’s the first time I’m hearing about you wanting dames. That I can arrange. A club like yours would go through women like swatting mosquitoes, and I’ve a new shipment that I know you’ll be interested in.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” He cracks his knuckles.

“What about us?” Brew pipes up. “Didn’t haul our cookies here just to put out in the cold.”

Bane thumbs at the brothers over his shoulder. “I can vouch for them. Known the assholes for years, they run a tight ship, and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the market in New Orleans is kinda slow thanks to the Carusos.” He rubs his chin. “Plus, I owe them a favor. So, that bein’ said. If we can snaffle half the bitches, and they have the other half, I figure we’re even.”

“As long as you know the price.” Jefferson levels Bane with his gaze. You’d think for how much money this guy makes, he’d be able to afford a better suit. “That hasn’t changed, and there are no discounts. Unless you want to sample a whore for free.”

He signals with his two fingers and one of the henchmen disappears, only to return with a small, dark-haired girl who barely looks legal. Holy fuckin’ shit.

She isn’t like the other girls in here who dance with confidence, like they want to be here. This chick is clearly frightened. Her eyes dart around and when Jefferson shoves her over to Bane, he pulls her onto his lap. She doesn’t struggle; clearly she’s been told to behave. But grooming can take a while, and her resistance is not only visible, but cringeworthy. I want to beat this man to a pulp.

Bane rubs his hands down the sides of her thighs as her breath hitches. “Do I have to give this one back?” he chuckles.

Jefferson smirks. “Consider her a gift. Just don’t bruise her up too bad, she’s training to service some of the politicians and congressmen downtown. They like the younger ones.”

It’s a slight movement, but one of Bane’s hands curls into a fist.

“How old is she?” I sound bored, hoping to not raise suspicion.

“Barely eighteen.” Jefferson’s eyes wander down to her tits. “Younger ones are easier to manipulate and control. Once you have their soul, break them in, that’s when things get really interesting.”

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