Page 2 of Big Easy
I'm fucking happy.
The sun cresting over the horizon as I continue my run along the riverside brings my thoughts back to the present. I've been clean and sober for more than twenty years and plan on keeping it that way. This is why when I became President of Hades Outlaw MC, things had to change. I loved my uncle, but he was old school. A majority of club money was made dealing drugs and running a men's night club. The nightclub remains, but the drug dealing had to go. A few original members didn't like the changes, mostly those who were more than eager to sample the merchandise. Like it or not, we ceased all operations. It wasn't an easy transition. The club's finances dropped for some time, but we weathered the storm.
A beautiful woman in skintight leggings and a halter top jogs past me. My eyes land on her shapely ass. The brunette throws me a look over her shoulder, and I grin. She lets her eyes roam my body for a beat, smiling back, letting me know she likes what she sees before sprinting further ahead.
Her loss.
Not missing a beat, I finish with my run, then head back home, which happens to be a loft apartment above the club's tattoo shop Outlaw Ink. After I punch out the code, my front door unlocks, and I enter the building.
Taking a moment to catch my breath, I flip the lights on and look around our shop's ground level floor. The walls are painted a smokey black, with artwork of colorful tattoos covering those walls. Outlaw Ink was brought to life not long after I became club President. With the tattoo shop and the night club, Hades Outlaw MC keeps a steady stream of income.
I can only hope my uncle would be proud of the direction I've taken us. As for the few who were dead set against the changes made over the years, well, they walked away. It was their choice to make. You're either here for the club and your brothers, or you're not. During change and growth, you find your inner circle—you find out who is willing to ride or die with the club and stand beside their brothers.
Jogging up a spiral staircase, I head for my loft. My apartment is an open concept, combining both my living room and kitchen area. Much like the shop, I have black walls painted throughout. An oversized grey sectional sits in front of a flat-screen TV. My kitchen cabinets are a deep shade of blue accented by dark grey countertops. The best part of my home is, by far, the view. Striding across the room, I slide open the doors that fold together, opening the entire glass wall to the balcony outside. Living so close to the river feels like being back home in New Orleans.
Being from the Crescent City is also how I got my road name. Besides Prez, my brothers call me Big Easy. My uncle used to call me by the nickname growing up, and it stuck with me ever since.
In the distance, I hear the rumble of Harleys. Seconds later, I notice a couple of my brothers, one with his old lady on the back of his bike, rounding the stop sign at the end of the street. Knowing they will let themselves in, I head for my room, enter the bathroom and grab a quick shower.
Thirty minutes later, I'm dressed in my usual black boots, black jeans, a grey shirt, and leather cut. Descending the stairs, Ifind my men Grim and Slider organizing their stations. "How's it goin', Prez?" Grim, the club's Enforcer, looks up from his sketch pad.
"Can't complain." I head for my work area toward the back of the shop. "Rylee, what's my schedule look like today?" I call out. Rylee is Grim's old lady and also our receptionist/shop assistant.
"You have four clients coming in today. Your last session is with Ryker to finish up his back piece," Rylee says from behind the counter where she's looking at the computer screen.
"Make sure our schedules are clear around lunchtime tomorrow, would ya? We need to make an appearance down at the hospital for the charity event."
"Already taken care of, Boss."
The bell over the entrance chimes as my VP, and our shop manager, Brewer, walks inside. "Prez." His tone grabs my attention. "We have a situation."
"My office," I order, knowing he has something important to tell me. Slider, our Sergeant at Arms, leaves his station, along with Grim. Once in the other room with my men, Slider closes the door.
"Cameras down at the nightclub caught Cash accepting money from some suit before instructing Roxy to escort the bastard toward the back." We've suspected one of the girls may have been turning tricks on our time, but I didn't think one of our men would be pimping her out. I cross my arms over my chest. "I decided to pay Roxy a visit this morning on the way in."
I raise my brow. "And…"
"She answered the door with a black eye and busted lip, then spilled her guts, telling me everything. Seems Cash has been holding some shit over her head for some time now. Roxy admitted to having a drug addiction, which is starting to control her life. Cash saw her weakness and has been feeding her hungerand having her repay her debt by making some of his business clients happy," Slider explains, and my anger grows.
"Did Cash give her the shiner and busted lip?" I ask.
"No, the suit did. Roxy also mentioned catching Cash on more than one occasion stealing money from the register behind the bar."
His words make my blood boil. You don't steal from the club.
"Have him brought in. Make sure he's kept uncomfortable for the day." My words sound cold and detached. "We'll deal with him tonight."
"You got it." Slider pulls a phone from his pocket and relays my orders to one of our men.
Several hours later, I'm working on my final client of the day, Ryker. This is the last session being done on the massive back piece of a Viking warrior I've been working on for two months. Ryker is a chef and part-time photographer. Many of the photos hanging on my walls are of his handiwork. "So, how's the old lady doin'?" I ask him, knowing their first child is due to be born any day now.
"Ready to have her body back," Ryker laughs. "Hell, if I have it my way, it won't be long before I have her knocked up again."
"Shit, brother." I chuckle. "What's the hurry?"
"You're kidding, right? Have you seen her? Devin is the most beautiful woman in the world, but even sexier when she's carrying a life we both created inside of her," Ryker says with conviction. "When the hell are you going to finally settle down?" he asks.
Keeping my hands steady, I finish the shadowing on the last section of the tattoo. "Marriage isn't for me."
