Page 7 of Naughty Santa Daddy

I lean forward, my elbows resting on the table, and glance around at the faces of my brothers. Over half of them are new to me. Life doesn’t stop when you’re locked up.

We’re all waiting, anticipating what Miller has to say.

Miller looks at each of us in turn before he speaks. “What in the fuck happened at the hospital?” Cut right to the chase.

Cowboy leans back in his chair, stretching his arms. “Well, one second we were just shooting the shit, trying to figure out which sexy nurse we were going to make our naughty elf, when a van pulled up and just started lighting the place up.”

Miller’s eyes narrow, and he leans forward. “I know all of that,” he hisses. “I want to know what wasn’t on the news. What you guys saw. Anything about the van? The cops are up in our shit because logically they’re going to try to pin this on the club. So, let’s try to get ahead of them and take care of whoever did this before the cops do.”

I sit quietly, listening to the exchange. It’s a different world out here, but some things never change. The need for information, the constant pressure of being a step ahead. It’s a dance I’ve missed, even if I have to tread carefully now.

Cowboy scratches his chin, thinking. “The van was white, no plates. Windows were tinted. Had the logo for Jensen Medical Supplies on the side. Would have looked legit if it hadn’t been for the way they were driving like a bat out of hell. None of usgot a good look at the shooters, but there were at least three of them. It was professional, you know? They knew what they were doing.”

JD nods in agreement. “Yeah, they were coordinated. Hit us hard and fast. They were gone before we could even get a good look. But the way they moved... they knew who they were going after.”

Miller’s frown deepens. “That narrows it down, but not by much. Wash, you got any contacts that could help us ID these guys?”

Wash shrugs, his expression still unreadable. “I’ll make some calls. See what I can dig up.”

I knew I had to speak up. “There were a few guys sweeping the garage. I headed up to the second level after the shooting started. I needed to hide out until the cops cleared since I’m on parole.”

Miller nods. “Smart thinking. Your ass would probably be back in jail if they knew you were there.”

Drake leans forward, his eyes sharp. “What about that new club that started up two towns over?”

Wash scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “They’re a bunch of clowns. We can look into them, but I don’t think they can ride in a straight line, let alone get their shit together to attack us.”

Jonas, sitting across the table from me, holds up one finger. “Twisters up in Princeton?” He adds another finger. “Road Kings that operate out of the Market?” One more finger. “Rabbit and Dawg? Both idiots who are dumb enough to think they could take us out.”

I listen, absorbing the information. It’s been seven years since I was last here, and things have changed. New threats, new dynamics. I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to draw too much attention, but my mind is already working through the possibilities.

Miller looks thoughtful, his eyes narrowing. “The Road Kings are small-time, but they’re ambitious. We can’t afford to overlook anyone right now.”

Wash nods, agreeing. “We’ll keep tabs on them. See if there’s any chatter about them getting involved in something bigger.”

“Rabbit and Dawg?” Miller asks. “They were prospects for two seconds before we gave them the boot, and that was three years ago.”

“Maybe they’re pissed they’re not in the club?” Jonas suggests.

Drake shakes his head. “Those two are as sharp as a bag of hammers. There ain’t no way they pulled together their two brain cells to pull the shooting off. No fucking way.”

“You’re probably right,” Miller says, nodding. “But I want you and Goliath to look into them.” Then he turns to me. “Goliath, this will be a good way for you to get your feet wet with the club. Shit has changed since you’ve been gone, and you need to get up to speed with it.”

I nod. “Sounds good to me.”

Drake grins and nods at me. “I can show you around, Grandpa.”

I flip him off, but a smile tugs at my lips. “Sit and spin, boy.” Drake is at least ten years younger than me, and he’s been calling me Grandpa since I got out. It’s only a matter of time before I show him I’m anything but a grandpa.

Miller’s gaze shifts. “JD and Cowboy, I want you to go pay a visit to the Twisters and see where they stand.”

JD nods, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the table. “Got it, Prez.”

Cowboy leans back in his chair, tipping his hat. “Consider it done.”

As the meeting breaks up, I catch Miller’s eye. We’ve been tight since we were teenagers. When I went down, he rosethrough the ranks and became Prez by my second year in prison. Now, he’s the glue holding this club together.

He moves over to me and slaps me on the back. “I bet you didn’t think you’d be stepping right in the shit when you got out.”

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