Page 13 of Ghost
“Consider it done,” Stunner quips, and when no one says another word about the clinic, he continues. “Moving on. Soulless Ink is in the black, as always.”
“Damn straight it is,” Python says with a grin. “I do good fucking work.”
Crow shakes his head. “Yeah, you do,” he comments dryly, as if placating a child.
Stunner clears his throat. “I’m wondering if it wouldn’t be a good idea to hire another artist to help out. Appointments are up, and with the shit about to hit the fan in other businesses, Python might not be able to devote as much time at SI.”
Pres shifts his gaze to the tattooist in question. “You good with that, brother?”
Python narrows his eyes. “You know I don’t work well with others.”
“I’m sure Ben can attest to that,” I say with a chuckle. “Poor prospect comes home after working with you and looks like crawling into Hell would be more fun.”
“See,” Python snaps. “I ain’t takin’ anyone else on.”
“Not sure you’ve gotta fuckin’ choice in the matter,” Crow says hotly. “Would you rather business falls off because people get tired of waiting on your grumpy ass?”
“What about Braydon?” Screamer suggests, referring to our newest prospect. “He’s a talented motherfucker with his drawings.” Our road captain shrugs. “Maybe you could be his mentor or some shit.”
“Dude can draw, that’s for sure,” Python grudgingly admits. “But can he follow orders?”
“Best to find out at the shop and not during other club business, don’t ya think?” Poker states.
Python grumbles unintelligibly. “Yeah, fine. I guess you’ve gotta point.”
“It’s settled then,” Crow says matter-of-factly. “Take Braydon with you to Soulless Ink tomorrow and see how things go. We can do it on a trial basis, if that makes you feel better.”
“A little,” Python mumbles.
“And moving on,” Journey says as shifts his gaze from one brother to the next. “We’ve got some shit happening on the streets with our drug sales. We may have eliminated Sonny, but more dealers have popped up, and they’re peddling our stuff.”
“How the fuck are they getting their hands on it?” Poker demands.
“And what the hell are they lacing it with?” Fudge bites out. “I’m guessing Fentanyl based on the sheer number of deaths, but until we can get our hands on it, we won’t know for sure.”
“If Poker wouldn’t have been in such a damn hurry to waste Sonny, we might have the answers,” I snap.
“Gimme a break,” Poker argues. “He wasn’t gonna give us shit, and you know it.”
I shoot to my feet. “No, I don’t kn?—”
“Sit down!” Crow shouts. “And shut up!”
Obeying my Pres, I plop down into my chair. Poker glares at me so I shift my eyes to Crow.
“Sorry, Pres.”
“I get that you’ve got a lot going on,” Crow says. “But don’t you dare take it out on us.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I mutter, leaning back and crossing my arms over my chest.
“Then enlighten us,” Journey suggests hotly.
“He can do that after we figure this other shit out,” Crow barks. “Right now, we need to know who’s killing the people in our town.”
“And using our shit to do it,” Journey adds.
“Have you talked to Shuffle?” I ask, putting my other worries out of my mind.
