Page 10 of Hendrix

“We discussed it last night, Prez,” Gambit pointed out. “We gotta point to prove. If we keep letting Larry get away with trying to stiff us, everyone else will start thinking they can do the same.”

“There’s no money in low-level gambling; it’s more trouble than it’s worth,” I grumbled. “We’re already walking a fine line with the security contracts. If the FBI finds out we’re running an illegal fighting ring, we’ll lose our main source of income.”

“There’s nobody else we can trust with it,” Pop pointed out. “There are no honorable bookmakers who would take this place over and run it respectfully. You’re looking for something that doesn’t fucking exist.”

“But if we don’t start cultivating relationships, we’ll never have a network of people we can trust except for each other,” I muttered. “What do you think about giving it to Cross?”

“Larry’s nephew?” Gambit asked.

I nodded. “I’ve gotta feeling he’ll do okay. He’s young, but he’s smart.”

Dad nodded thoughtfully.

“I don’t think the club would care,” Gambit declared. “Not one of those assholes wanna spend their nights here taking bets and dealing with drunken assholes. Too much work and not enough fucking and shooting.”

My lips twitched because he wasn’t wrong. “Did you bring the check?”

He patted the left side of his cut. “Two hundred grand ready to go.”

“Gimme the twelve,” I told my dad. “If we do end up taking the place over, I’ll add it on for good business relations.”

Dad began to cackle.

“I fucking love my job,” Gambit muttered. “Even though you’re all mad as a box of frogs.” His cell phone beeped, and he fished it out of his pocket to check the screen. “The boys are here. You better get changed, Prez, or you’ll give us all a show. Those gym shorts don’t leave much to the imagination.”

My dad chuckled. “I gave him his goods. Though he’ll never measure up to his old dad.”

“Not what Daisy says,” Gambit bandied back.

I went to my bag and turned my back on the men, listening to their light-hearted banter while I changed into my jeans, tee, and cut. I slipped my cell into my pocket, and we all made for the door before walking up the hallway toward the main fight hall.

The second we entered, I noticed my boys standing guard in small clusters, all of them situated strategically close to Larry’s men. I craned my neck, eyes searching the darkened room, trying to catch sight of the asshole himself. Finally, I spotted him over by the ring, talking to the redhead I’d just fucked. He was waving his arms, and his face had turned beet red.

My eyes narrowed on them. That fucker had planted the bitch to try to distract me from the light envelope he’d handed over.

“Yo!” a deep voice suddenly greeted in my ear.

My heart leaped, and I jumped out of my skin. My neck twisted to see my massive sergeant at arms standing next to me, his eyes darting all around, taking in the scene.

“Jesus, Diablo,” I snapped, my hand going to my racing heart. “You almost gave me a damned heart attack.”

He dipped his chin, his mouth twisting wryly. “We can take ‘em without firing weapons. Larry only brought six men, which was his first mistake of the night. His second was to lighten your take. He must’ve known we wouldn’t take his shit lying down, so I got to thinking, why did he only bring six men with him? He’s an idiot, but even he can’t be that damned stupid.”

“They’re packing, and they’re prepared to shoot,” I muttered.

Diablo’s eyes widened, then darted around the room. “They can’t shoot in a room with three hundred people in it. Someone’s bound to get caught in the crossfire.”

“We need to disable them before they get to their weapons. Get the word out to the brothers.”

“On it,” Diablo replied. He stepped back and disappeared into the shadows.

My SAA was a big guy, but he could also turn into a ghost. The way he did it was unnerving and cool as fuck. Diablo was the club joker, and he yanked the men’s chains until they wanted to kill him. Diablo, Iceman, my VP Blade, and I were the best of buds. We ran the club between us, along with input from my dad, who was our voice of reason and mostly talked us down from whatever crazy idea we were hell-bent on carrying out at the time.

My club was different from the Wyoming chapter. We were all younger and felt we had something to prove. Our town, Arrowhead Point, was up-and-coming in our corner of Virginia on the Potomac River. We set the club up and immediately started to open new businesses, which forced the locals to wake up and recognize what a goldmine they sat on.

Now, small stores and bars were shooting up everywhere, ours included, and we were doing okay, especially with our security business, which was thriving due to our extensive government and private contracts. We charged top dollar because we could. My team was elite, and it was an age-old adage that you got what you paid for, and in our case, it was the best.

Larry thinking he stood a chance was a joke, but then nobody could accuse the asshole of being a smart man. Cross must’ve got his brains from his mother’s side, along with his looks.

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