Page 41 of Savage Protector

Axel tried to keep his calm. He wasn’t sure his ass of an ex best friend was taking his commitment as seriously as he should. Peace didn’t come in twenty-four goddamned hours or at the bottom of a bottle. “That ain’t fucking all, asshole.”

The other man stilled, narrowing his eyes. “What else?”

“Sit down. There’s some things about the organization you need to understand.”

“Axel, come the fuck on. I know this club. I grew up in it same as you, remember?”

“I remember you walking away from all of us at a shit time without so much as a glance back and vowing never to come back. That’s what I fucking remember. You seriously think shit don’t change in ten years?” He was losing his patience.

“We’ve got the rest of my Goddamned life to hash this out. Time is not on Izzy’s side right now. We’ve got to find her soon before it’s too late.”

“Pussy that good? Seems crazy to be so wrapped up in this girl so fast. Is there an angle I’m missing here?”

The transition from frustration to anger that locked down Houston’s face did not come as a surprise. He’d pushed at him for that very reason.

Houston clenched his fists, but kept them at his side. “Don’t. Go. There. You’re starting to piss me off and I don’t know how much longer I can hold my temper. So unless you want your head bashed in I suggest you stop before it’s too late.”

Axel really wanted Houston to swing the first punch. Whatever was up his ass needed to be removed. Air needed to be cleared sooner rather than later. “I’m going to give you a pass on threatening me just this once. Do it again and the service end of my pistol is getting shoved in your face. You got me?”

Houston’s face turned red, but he managed at great visible strain to keep his mouth shut.

“JD and the rest of the crew have already left for Seattle.”

“What?”

“He got a quick meeting with an associate of Frank Mazzeo who happens to owe us big time for some shit that went down a couple of months back. Don’t know what’s going to happen but if anyone can strike a deal with him, JD can. Him and this guy go way back.”

“I remember,” Houston muttered. “We should be there too.”

“No. You and I are hanging back with Tel. That brother can work some fucking magic on a computer and he has a better than good shot at tracing the van that grabbed your girl. But he needs your help to get it started.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

Axel held up his hand. “Hang on. We aren’t finished talking yet. You haven’t heard the rest of the deal. This club is taking your back in this in a big way. Probably going to get bloody before it's over. We'll need something specific from you in return.”

“I already told you whatever you want it's done.”

He pulled a folder out of his cut and handed it to Houston. “Then you’ve got some homework to do.”

“What’s this?”

“A case we’ve been working on that's hit a wall.” He lit the cigarette he'd been holding in his hand.

“A case? I don’t understand what you mean?” Houston started flipping through the papers.

“Like I said. Club’s changed. No more drugs running through here other than the legal kind, and the only guns we deal are our own. We kept the gambling cause it makes a fuck ton of money and every politician in this state comes here to play so we ain’t gonna get busted. We also branched out into some other legitimate businesses.

Got us a real deal distillery going in next to the compound for our Reaper Shine, and one of the old ladies convinced us to invest in a chain of topless coffee huts across the state.” Axel shook his head. "Turns out they’re real popular near the Navy bases." That had been one hell of a meeting when that shit came up. Everyone started fighting. “The club was struggling though. The old members missed the money from the more profitable illegal shit and tempers were flaring daily. Then one of the townies came out here asking us to help him. Said he’d pay a shitload of cash if we found out who broke into his house and murdered his wife.”

Houston closed the file and met his gaze. “You’re mercenaries now.”

“You can call it that if you want. We fill a lucrative gap when it comes to justice, which happens to go really well with the original charter plans.”

Houston nodded. “You reap what you sow.”

“You're God damned right.”

“So what does that have to do with me?”

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