Page 10 of Inglorious
“Answering to a woman. Take my cut, this place is only good for getting laid,” Gamer sneered.
Whelp, that saved me a job! Happily, I took the cut and watched the asshole leave. As he did, another man entered. He looked tired and was rubbing his face.
“I’m King, Moon called. What’s going on?”
“I’m Nanci, and as of an hour ago, I’m the Unwanted Bastards President. Got a problem with that?” I asked.
“As long as you don’t intend to hit a fuckin’ bottle, no. I’m here because I’m loyal, but I was reaching my breaking point,” King replied.
“Good answer. Inglorious and Chill have been moved to the cells. They’ll sober up there.”
“Cold turkey?” King inquired. A flash of glee crossed his face, and I guessed King was getting some sort of joy from that. Life couldn’t have been easy for King and Moon.
“Yes. I’ve a doctor coming for them. Until then, it’s Razor, our new VP Vortex, and me. Razor is now Chaplin,” I said.
“Okay, I guess you’re taking over the businesses?”
“Yeah, back to prospect duties for you, King. Starting with: until Doc Paul gets here, can you watch over the drunken assholes in the town jail?” I asked.
King snorted. “Somehow, that strikes me as karma.”
“Too true. Why aren’t you asking who I am?”
“Moon gave me a heads up.”
“Party and Gamer are no longer prospects. They are not welcome in Merritt. If you see them, remove them as soon as possible. If they refuse to leave, call Vortex.”
“Got it. Do you want some help in here?” King asked.
“No, I can handle this. But the common room is next.”
King held my gaze. “Inglorious locked the brothers’ rooms. Nobody’s been in there since…”
I puffed my cheeks out. “Thanks. I’ll deal with that when I get my head around that fact.”
King nodded and left. I continued cleaning, and two hours later, I was done. A smell lingered, but the trash and everything else was clean. There was a full in-tray overflowing with mail, and I’d located the books for the club.
Vortex entered, looking disgusted. “The asshole trashed every room possible. The VP’s office is disgusting. I’ve cleaned the worst out.”
“Same here. The rec room’s next. I dread to imagine the state of the kitchen,” I said.
Vortex shook his head. “Moon’s tidying the common room right now. Doc Paul just pulled up outside as well.”
“Why didn’t you start with that?” I demanded, and Vortex smirked.
“I sent Doc to the cells, you can meet him there,” Vortex replied and walked away. “I’m going to pick a bunk.”
“Inglorious hasn’t emptied the rooms,” I called, and Vortex missed a step. “He locked and left them alone.”
Vortex turned slowly. “Guess we’ve got another job.”
“Ain’t we just,” I complained, adding it to my phone notes.
The list was freaking growing. Clean the clubhouse top to bottom, repaint, and refresh. Buy new furniture. Inspect and pack up the bunks that the previous brothers used. Find their pictures and hang them up. Display their spare cuts as amemorial. Check their graves and ensure they’ve got flowers being placed weekly.
Hire a cook for the brothers, because I wasn’t cooking for them. Call Blackhawk Construction and get them back out. Review accounting books for the club. Verify the money the club holds in the bank. Get Inglorious and Chill sober. Then the biggest job: track down the Legacies that remain… and rebuild. Somehow, I didn’t think that would happen in the month I’d planned on staying.
“Nanci, one day at a time,” Vortex stated as he read my expression.
