Page 36 of Property of Rio

“They’ve got a bunkhouse for the handlers, so he’ll stay there.”

“May let a couple of my guys stay with him, then,” Rip muses. “Fuck, I swear to Christ it’s always something, isn’t it?”

“Right? I was trying to do fucking payroll when this was dropped in my lap,” I grouse. “Whatever happened to living free and easy?”

He snickers then retorts, “There’s no rest for the wicked.”

“So, that means the rest of us have to work hard too?” I ask.

“Always. Shoot me the dates and what campsite we’re in when you’ve got the details ironed out,” he instructs. “We’ll see you there.”

“Appreciate it, Brother,” I reply.

“Got your back, Rio,” he states before disconnecting.

“Well, that’s one problem down, now let’s finish this shit up so folks get paid, and no one quits on me,” I say out loud as I return to my laptop and the payroll program we use.

“Okay, Pokey received credible intel from our East Texas brothers,” I state after banging the gavel on the table. “Seems there’s a local gang trying to make a name for themselves called the Onyx Dragons. They’re moving in on Kings territory and have high aspirations of taking over the state.”

Raucous laughter reverberates throughout the room while I smirk at my brothers. “Fuck that noise,” BamBam replies. “It’s not the first time we’ve faced shit like that, and it won’t be thelast, that’s for damn sure. Everyone wants dibs on the pipeline we’ve created.”

“Gotta admit, it’s a good one,” I reply. “Pretty much a straight shot to the border which means we can move product easily for our other chapters.”

“Are they based up near the East Texas chapter?” Abyss questions. “Doesn’t Issy have an event coming up?”

I smirk while looking at him. “And this is why you’re my VP. Yes to both and we’re putting shit in place to make sure she’s protected while she competes.”

“Fuck, I love those funnel cakes,” Nighthawk mutters, unconsciously licking his lips.

“I like the sausage with onions and peppers,” Doc chimes in. He looks at me and asks, “Who’s going?”

I glance around the table and see Richie Rich looks worried. “I know you’ve got a full appointment book, Brother, so you’re going to stay.”

“I love watching her compete like everyone else who’s sitting around this table does, but with business booming… I hope she understands,” Richie Rich replies, deflated.

“I’d offer to bring you back some food, but it’d get eaten,” BamBam teases.

Richie Rich pats his flat abs and retorts, “You don’t get a physique like this eating rodeo food.” Then, his face falls and he mutters, “But those nachos with jalapenos are fucking awesome.”

I start laughing because as usual, my brothers have deviated from the matter at hand. Like Rip said, it’s probably easier to baptize a damn cat than it is to keep these fuckers focused and on task.

“Okay, y’all, let’s get back to the matter at hand. I think we need to vote on whether Mongrel is ready to patch in or not. Does he need more time? If so, say it now because if the vote’s not unanimous, he’s out. As far as I’m concerned, his assistance with Four showed me he’s got what it takes to be a King.”

“I agree,” Abyss adds, tapping his fingers on the wooden surface of the table. “Anyone have anything to say that would mean he waits a few months longer?”

“What if we wait until after the rodeo? Take him with us and see how he does protecting Issy,” BamBam suggests. “To me, that’s the true litmus test, Prez. I know we’ve got our shit as a club, but she’s your queen so anyone joining our ranks needs to act accordingly.”

I love how my brothers look out for Issy. They always have, even before I made her officially my ol’ lady. “That might be a good idea. Should we take all three of them so we can see how they handle shit? We haven’t had a rodeo here since any of them came on board as prospects, so we need to know how they’ll handle the crowds and all the shit that goes along with it before ours comes along.”

“Let’s take them all,” Q-Ball states.

“Anything else?” I question as I look around the table. “Payroll’s been done, so check your accounts to make sure I didn’t fuck anything up.” When Chick looks at me in disbelief, I shrug. “Igot your spreadsheets, Brother, and went ahead and processed everything earlier.”

“Appreciate that, Prez, was tied up in town at the courthouse trying to get the permits to add on to the food buildings for the rodeo. Have we ever considered using food trucks instead?” Chick asks.

“The problem with food trucks is if it rains, they get stuck, then they tear up our grounds which meanswehave to pay to get them fixed,” I reply. “The buildings work just fine, and I like the idea of adding on to include vegan and also gluten-free foods. Seems like there are so many folks allergic to shit these days.”

“Y’know, I saw something during one of our recent runs that we might wanna consider,” Gopher says, adding another topic to consider. “We’ve got the porta-potties out in the parking lots, which is fine, but what if we get some of those prefabricated bathroom trailers and put those up? We’ve got plenty of space to work with, right?”

---