Page 1 of Property of Grifter
PROLOGUE
GRIFTER
“Thanks,brother.I know this isn’t what you planned, but we need you.”
“You’re sure about this C?”I ask him for probably the hundredth time.“The men know you.You could step up and—” I ask, holding my phone tight.
“I’m good with my position in the club, brother.I don’t want to be the leader.Only one here wanted that position.That was Cowboy.We had a club vote, and he was voted down.You got the majority vote based on my recommendation and your history.The position is yours brother.It won’t be easy, but this club has potential.We could build something special here.I mean there’s a reason I moved across country to live here the last four years.Ace was just getting old and gave up fighting for our place.We all saw it.Unfortunately, so did the War Kings.They want our territory.They want what we’ve got here.The bones are here, but we’re going to need more, Grift.I’m not going to lie to you.”
“I’m going to bring Scorpion, especially since you said Cowboy refused the position when he lost the vote for President.”
“He’s a solid man.I think you will like him.He’s just younger and not ready to lead.”
“So, you’re saying I’m voted in because I’m fucking old?”I laugh dryly.
“Whatever.We both know you want to leave Colorado in the past.”
I take a deep breath and let it shudder through me.He’s not wrong.I need away from everything in Colorado.That’s the only reason I put my name in as a replacement for Ace when word spread that no one else wanted to take over.I don’t guess that’s unusual since Ace was killed trying to keep his territory.With a show of force, allies—of which my club was included—swarmed in and ran the War Kings back, but we all know they will try again.They need time to regroup, however.By the time that happens, I plan on taking over and making sure our club is fucking strong.
“You’re right.I actually am heading down that way in a week.I need some time to get packed up and make sure my realtor has what he needs to sell my house here.”
“Sounds good man.It’s been too long.It will be good to work with you again.”
I smile.C—which stands for his road name, Candyman—and I were members in the same club for a long time.He was my Enforcer, and I trusted him more than any other person in my life.He wanted to move to Tennessee, however, because his mother lived there and had been diagnosed with cancer.I understood, but I missed him.I’m not sure I’m going to like Tennessee, but C is right.I need to get the hell out of here and it will be good to be paired up with C once again.That’s two things that Tennessee has going for it.From there, I’ll just see where it goes.
“Has there been any movement with the War Kings?”I ask, still wondering exactly what I’m going to walk into.I mean, I don’t care.I’m used to living in hell.I survived it and thrived.I’ll do it again.I just like to be prepared.
“There’s some chatter, nothing concrete yet.”
“Okay, keep me updated.I’ll let you know what day I’ll be arriving.I’d like to meet with the club right away.”
“I’ll wait to hear from you.Safe travels, asshole.”
“Fuck you,” I laugh, clicking off my phone, then tossing it on my coffee table.
I’m a little nervous about moving to Tennessee.There’s a chance I could hate it.Still, something deep inside of me tells me that there’s something waiting for me there that I need.Maybe it’s just a new beginning, and if so, I’m okay with that.God knows I need a fresh start.Hopefully Tennessee will be better than Colorado has been.
I’m not sure it could get worse …
1GRIFTER
The roarof my pipes echoes my arrival as I cross the city limit sign of Dreary As Hell, Tennessee.No shit, that’s what this place is called.I don’t know who originally named the town, but it’s hilarious.I also want to laugh when I see the small print beneath the town name proclaiming it’s the city limits.As far as I can tell, there is no city.It’s two paved lanes, a scattering of old buildings made of brick and stone and black streetlights that look like something out of a 1950’s movie.It’s quaint, but mostly deserted.
I slow down as traffic seems to pick up.There’s a diner to the right and there’s cars parked in spots that line both sides of the street.Apparently, that’s the major draw here.I make note because I do not cook.I take in the murals painted on the sides of some of the buildings and I have to admit I like the small town feel.After years of living in Denver, it’s calming.Hell, I haven’t even hit a traffic jam and in Denver right now, it’d be rush hour and bumper to bumper traffic.This is definitely a nice change of pace.
As I drive through town, I know people are staring at me and my bike.When I fought with the other clubs on behalf of the Kings of Anarchy, we fought on the War Kings’ home turf—which is in Athens, Tennessee.This is the first time I’ve been in Dreary.Everyone in this town probably knows who I am.There are no secrets in a small town—even I know that.That’s why I’m not making a secret of my arrival.I figure the War Kings still have spies here.I’m not going to tiptoe in.I want them to know.This is my territory, and I intend to make that very fucking clear.I want everyone to be aware of it.I’ m sending a clear message that I’m not going to allow anyone to take the area my club has claimed.Hell, before I’m done, we’ll have more territory.The War Kings willnotrise up against us again.I’ll see to that.
It's not long before I arrive at the KOAMC clubhouse.It’s the end of the street and then a right turn.I pull into the concrete parking lot, park and look at the building.There’s a billboard in the parking lot that reads Kings of Anarchy Sanctuary.There’s a tall fence around the place, but the parking lot is completely open—absolutely no gate to close.That will have to be fixed at once.Security measures need to be taken.
I look around briefly, noticing the garage across the street.I already know the club owns it.I slide off my bike and look at it briefly.It’s a nice size.From the figures I’ve seen, it’s not as lucrative as it should be.I’d like to talk it over with the others, but I have some ideas that I think will help.
I frown at the lack of guards.This damn club was just attacked.What are they thinking?I shake my head.C and I are going to have a long, hard talk.He knows better.I open the door and wait a minute or so for my eyes to adjust to the darkened interior.
Inside the stoned walls are covered in a faded gray paint that really needs to be redone.There are several old neon signs on the wall.The hum of the lights can be heard and permeates air that is thick with cigarette smoke, the stench of alcohol and … sex.
The concrete floors are painted a muted brown.They’re scuffed and dirty.There are florescent lights bolted to the ceiling and the light is rather stark.Apparently, Ace never cared much what their clubhouse was like.There’s a giant bar that takes the entire length of the wall to the right.There are two prospects behind the bar in blank Kings’ cuts.There’s no name patch, just a prospect patch.Two pool tables are over in the corner with a couple of men playing.An old jukebox is across from them, blaring eighties country music.There are six round, wooden tables.Each table has four to six chairs, depending on which one you’re looking at.There are also lots of well-worn couches placed around.In one darkened corner there’s a man getting his knob polished, making me practically roll my fucking eyes.
“Jesus, C.I see you haven’t changed,” I gripe, ignoring the stares from the other men sitting around.
