Page 65 of Thornhill Road

My heart was pounding as he spoke.

I feared any attempts to brace myself for what was coming wouldn’t be enough.

“Stallions have always been in the business of protection. The garage and the shop are legit—but we’ve got other ways of lining our pockets.”

Protection seemed promising. Maybe even safe-ish. I could get on board with that.

“For a long time, we aided in the transport of drugs and guns across the Canadian border.”

Okay—that part didn’t seem so safe.

“Club rule stated we saw the drugs to where they needed to go, but we did not buy or sell them. We did not partake. None of the hard stuff. It was strictly for profit. We didn’t want the hassle of any addicts in our ranks. The money was good, the work was consistent, we were reliable and therefore sought after. At least, that’s how it was when I joined.

“I was nearly a decade in when we started expanding. Started multiple chapters and opened up garages in other towns. Things started to get messy. Fuckers started to get greedy. Brothers started using—including the highest ranked among us. Scorpion, our former prez, let shit slide. He wanted to start a stable. Prostitutes brought in drugs. That shit spread like a virus—and he was the worst infected.

“Six years ago, we weren’t transporting only drugs and guns, we were trafficking people—mostly women, but sometimes girls. It was fucked, and not all of us were down to do that shit. A couple brothers left, some just took a hit in pay, refusing to take certain jobs—but Bull was the first among us to make a stand.

“Took nearly a year to recruit enough of us on his side. He was patient, smart. He didn’t want an all-out civil war, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a battle. We lost one of the best among us, but we won. In the end, we won.”

He stopped his story, and I stared at him, feeling like he’d left out the most important part.

“But what does that mean? How are you different now?”

“No women. No trafficking, no stable—none of that. A woman shows up here wanting Stallion dick, she earns her keep, but we don’t sell her pussy.”

I nodded, still trying to absorb it all.

No women. No human trafficking. That was a marked improvement.

Holy hell, how was I even having this conversation?

“And, um, what about the drugs and the guns?”

“No drugs. That was a harder sell—but that’s part of the reason I opened Steel Mustang, as another source of income for the club.”

No human trafficking. No drugs.

“And the guns?”

“Still move guns, baby. Protect the right people for the right cash, too.”

I shook my head in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“Means someone needs to get from point A to point B, we don’t ask questions, we just get them there.”

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and gnawed on it a little.

I wasn’t sure my brain had the energy to fully process most of what he’d shared, but I felt pretty clear on what theyweren’tdoing. Mostly. They’d been into some dangerous, very illegal activities—but I didn’t know what abattleamongst his brothers entailed. Not to mention, I didn’t imagine one could be in thegunsanddrugbusiness without meeting some very questionable people.

“But you don’t, like…” I stopped myself and frowned, uncertain if I could finish the question.

“Spit it out, sugar. You opened the door. You best walk through it.”

I licked my lips anxiously then blurted, “You don’t kill people, do you?”

It wasn’t until I said it that I realized that was my line. I didn’t have the capacity right then to figure out what that said about me, but nothing he’d said made me want to run. Not yet, anyway.

He quirked an eyebrow, but there was no humor in his expression.

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