Page 29 of Debt of My Soul

Received.

Deleting the message, I stride to the double doors.

“Have fun at Mommy and Daddy’s?” Blitz’s oily voice seeps into my ear. He stands to the side of the double doors smoking a cigarette.

I scoff. “Same shit, different year.”

He snorts in laughter that turns into a wheezing cough. “See that brother of yours? Heard he had a new piece of ass.”

My nostrils flare and Blitz narrows his eyes at me. Steeling my expression, I grunt in response, yanking open the door.

He’s an idiot, my brother. Bringing a woman into his life. Enjoying the perks of having everyone else clean up his mess. He may only be two years younger than me, but he’s acting foolish.

When I walk in, several of the guys hover around the meeting table. Darrin’s dark brown hair is curled and wet as if he just got out of the shower, and it indicates he’s over this day like the rest of us.

“We have several shipments coming in from the border this week. It will be all hands on deck to get it moved out. I don’t want it here long.” He blinks, those mismatched eyes looking at each of the guys.

The men nod. The warehouse on site allows us to consolidate and distribute. Most of the product goes into the hands of local dealers, but we have a few trucks we move product in for out-of-state transport. Darrin procured three United States Postal Service trucks modified to conceal product. We’ve never once been stopped.

“In other news, we caught a snitch. Found an undercover cop snooping around. Y’all know how I feel about cops.” Darrin holds out the S so it hisses from the tip of his tongue.

“What’da do with him, D? Make an example out of him?” Snape chuckles. Snape is a hound, always sniffing for blood.

“No. That would draw too much attention. Gave his name to our friends down south.”

Hollering and fists on the table distract me from the pit growing in my stomach. Silently, I’m praying they don’t ask about Adam.

Pounding on the front doors of the clubhouse pauses the meeting, and Blitz runs in, saying we’ve got a junkie at the gate.

This happens. A lot. The town’s people get hooked on Jackpot and the dealers are squeezed for information.Ultimately, the compound location is given away, and they rummage through the woods, looking for a fix.

Darrin stands, his tall form striding to the front doors before the rest of us. There are six of us in this trusted circle. Micah is the only one with more brains than muscles. He’s Darrin’s little brother and he handles all the finances, so he doesn’t live on the compound. He’s a treasurer of sorts—but again we aren’t a motorcycle club.

Reaching the gate, we see the man. His hands shakily grip the secure fence, attention darting to each of us as we approach. He tries to claw his way in, reaching through each post. Plastering his head to the gate, he smooshes his face there, pleading with us.

“Let me in. I-I-I can pay. I’ll pay.”

Darrin steps forward. “How did you find this location?”

The man blinks rapidly, eyes working overtime as he tries to remember.

“J-Jace. He told me he was out. Had to get some from the compound. I followed him out here.”

Darrin’s cold expression hardens even more as he steps forward, taking the man’s face between his thumb and fingers through the iron bars. He moves the man’s face up and down, inspecting him. “And just what would you do for a hit?”

“Anything, man. I’d do anything.”

It’s a little past midnight when I finally make it to my cabin.

Darrin decided he’d let the man in, give him what he desperately craved, and then told him there was an upchargefor it being a premium on-site product. It took everything in me not to snort during his tirade. That’s Darrin, though. Uses what you crave, what you seek. He gives it to you, then pulls the plug, expecting loyalty in return, or charges what you can’t afford. If you can’t pay it back, you’re in debt to him. For the long haul.

The cabin is quiet. Undisturbed. It’s not the traditional Adirondack Mountain cabin you picture when planning your winter vacation, full of serene views and tranquil gentleness.

No. This is a rectangular box.

Sided in traditional rough-sawn lumber with a humble front porch, it houses one bedroom and one bath. With a minuscule kitchen and a decent-sized living room, it’s nothing special. But good enough for me.

Honestly, I’m not sure how Snape lives in his small cabin with his woman. My large body barely fits in between the damn doorways, let alone trying to share the space with another person.

---