Page 142 of American Hellhound
By the time he finished, Ghost was wired like he’d snorted a line, wet with flop-sweat, skin vibrating.
It was silent a few beats.
Then Hound said, “All of us are good with engines.”
Bruno nodded. “My neighbor’s always asking me to look at his old Camaro. I don’t charge him, but Icould.Wecould.”
“We’ve got tons of space,” Desi said, grinning. “Why not use it, huh? I’m in.”
Sampson said, “Bro, you thought this up?” He gestured to the plans being passed around the table. “When’d you get smart, huh?”
“You’ve got my vote,” James said, and Ghost breathed in inward sigh of relief. “I think it’s high time we diversified.”
“You do?” Duane asked, tone mild, flicking a glance to his VP.
“Yeah,” James said, exhaling smoke, and if Ghost didn’t know him so well, he wouldn’t have caught the touch of resistance in his voice, that little bit of push-back. He felt indescribably thankful for James in that moment, for sticking up for his idea, but a little scared, too, because arguing with Duane never turned out well for anyone.
Collier said, “We gonna vote on it? I’m ready.”
A chorus of agreement moved around the table.
Duane stubbed out his cigarette, fixed Ghost with a bored look, and said, “What about a loan?”
Ghost’s stomach turned over. “What?”
“Aloan. You can’t break ground and build a building without a big chunk of change – one you ain’t getting from me. If you want to run this legit, then you need a legit loan. Where’re you gonna get it?”
His entire plan hinged on Duane’s cooperation. This was to be a club business, and he’d taken for granted that, if everyone was board, he could use club funds to build.
He felt the blood draining from his face, cold and tingly all over, the heat intensifying in his armpits. “I…”
“Well?” Duane prompted, smile touching the corners of his mouth. “I’ll give you the green light, but you’ve got to come up with the money somehow.”
His heart was racing, painful in his chest. “I will,” he said. “I’ll get it.”
He was so fucked.
~*~
Maggie shut her locker and found Cody’s face waiting on the other side of the door. “What?”
He grinned.
“What?” Maggie repeated, already turning away. She didn’t know what he wanted, but she was ninety-nine percent sure she didn’t have time for it.
He snagged the edge of her jacket – it was the one Ghost had given her to wear to the party, and it smelled of him: cigarette smoke and sharp cologne, road dust – and held her in place. “Hold up, wait.” His smile was even wider.
Maggie twitched away, the jacket sliding from his fingers, and stared him down. “What, Cody? I’ve got to get to class.”
“Is it true you’re shacking up with a Dog?”
“Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“But aren’t you?”
Students passed in laughing, chattering groups, voices bouncing off the locker faces. Maggie noted several girls shooting her nasty looks; not only was she now the resident whore, but she was standing here with Cody.Leave him alone, their gazes said.Keep your slutty hands off him.
Hilarious. Like she wanted anything to do with this sixteen-year-old doofus and his razor-burned face.
