Page 61 of Miguel

I nodded. “No more issues.”

Iván smiled. “Tell Loco we will be in contact.”

We didn’t turn our backs on them until we were outside. Then we hurried onto our bikes and peeled the fuck out of there.

The knot that had been budding in my chest eased the further away we got from the Ravens and their warehouse. We weren’t completely in the clear just yet. There was still the threat of cops pulling us over, searching through our shit, and finding the cash.

I didn’t breathe until we were back in Tlaxcala, where the cops were our bitches, tucked neatly away into the pockets of our cueros. I swore I didn’t breathe until we made it back past the gates of the clubhouse.

I kicked off my bike and went inside. It was nighttime already, so it didn’t matter how anxious I was to go see Zeke over at Cami’s, my son was likely sleeping. I pulled out my phone the minute I stepped inside and immediately dialed the prospect watching over Lorena.

He answered on the first ring.

“Report,” I demanded.

“Everything’s chill,” he answered. “They went to bed.”

“You better not be in their fucking apartment or I’ll rip your throat out your fucking scrotum.”

“I’m outside,” he assured with a hint of nervousness.

Mayan stepped up next to me, eyeing the phone, likely already aware who I was talking to. He gestured at his own chest, and I knew what he meant and didn’t argue. He wanted to keep watch over our Viejas. I wanted that too, but I had VP responsibilities and had to go report to Loco before I could do anything else.

“Mayan is coming to relieve you. Don’t leave until he shows up to stand watch.”

“Got it.”

I hung up and turned just as Mayan thrusted the bags in my direction. I caught them and he didn’t say a single fucking word before he turned and stomped off in grand, hulking strides.

Sighing, I made my way towards Loco’s office. The club house was quiet, given the time. While there were still club putas milling about, it was a pretty quiet night. The music was down low, and some of my hermanos were openly fucking on the floor.

I knocked on Loco’s door, and after his barked order to come in, I did just that.

“How’d the drop go?” he asked. “Guessing it went fine since you’re still breathing.” My president stood up from the other side of his desk. Though his words were lighthearted, I could read the look of concern marring his features.

“It went normal.” I dropped the bags onto his desk. “Vague threats were made.”

Loco nodded. “It would be suspicious if they hadn’t threatened us.” He nodded towards the bags. “It all there?”

“Cubano counted it himself.” As our treasurer, he was in charge of handling all our money. That wouldn’t stop Loco from double checking after him, though.

“For now, we’re gonna keep this money in the vault in case there are any more fucking issues.”

“Any update on the gringos?”

“Chema is weeding out their hiding spot. Once he has that and an estimate of their numbers, we’ll make a plan and strike.” He clapped his hands. “Now, let’s go get you a strong drink and a puta to fuck for the night.” He rounded his desk and threw his arm over my shoulder, leading me out of his office.

“I’ll take that drink, but not the puta.”

His hold on me loosened. “Damn, that little teacher got her claws into you good, huh? Is the pussy worth it, at least?”

“Don’t talk about my Vieja’s pussy.”

Loco laughed in that maniacal way of his as he led me towards the bar.

There was a couple occupying a single seat there already, and a smile broke out on my face at the sight of them. “Ink, hijo de puta, when did you get back?”

Our club brother turned just as Loco pulled away.

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