Page 141 of Fury

“Oh, sorr—”

“I’m president.”

“Whoa. Oh boy. Congratulations, Finger.”

“How are things with you, Tania?”

“I’m getting married.”

“To that guy?”

“Yes. Kyle.”

“So it’s good?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s very good. We’re happy.”

She knew better than to ask my relationship status. I had none, anyway. Women frequently tried with me, but I was never interested enough. There was no point in exploring any “thing” with anyone.

“Stay that way, Tania.”

She let out a dry laugh. “I’ll try.”

“You’re doing good work, man.You caught the mistakes the accountant made last year, now you caught a prospect ratting out our business to a fucking cop. You keep catching shit for your club, well appreciated.” I leaned back in my chair in my office, our German Shepherd, Leper, curled at my feet.

My office was no longer the mildewed former bedroom that Kwik’s office had once been. We’d completely renovated the old farmhouse, as well as the detached barn out front, and the large shed at the other end. The old farm was an excellent location. Feds who constantly tried to do surveillance on us, and there were many, were easily spotted.

Even better, we’d finally stopped renting the property and bought it outright with the cash I’d insisted on putting to the side. There had been plenty of groaning among the men about the money crunch when I first presented the idea. I explained to them that you couldn’t blow everything you had on partying or let it slip through your fingers on the usual expenses just because you happened to have some extra one month or two. Planning ahead was a good thing.

The memories of my dad always rushing to scrape cash together at the last minute not only for his old lady, their house, their kids, but even to pay his own club dues, had never left me. Misery. I detested it.

The cost of the farmhouse wasn’t too bad as the family we got it from had sold off almost all of the property over the years in an attempt to keep up with expenses, taxes, their loans, and they were eager to sell. There was just enough land for us to have privacy for both our business and our good time. Now, my brothers were proud that we actually owned something. The “Farm,” as we called it, was ours.

Over the past few years, Tania’s little brother had proven his dedication, loyalty, and capabilities as a Flame. He’d settled in just fine with the bros, and now he even had an old lady, Jill. He had worked a lot of construction in his time, and spearheaded the final section that had to be done on our clubhouse and the adjoining garage we’d started building a few years back. He’d pitched in on security, too, setting up an improved alarm and camera system on our property. He’d then recruited a prospect, Den, who was a computer and electronics freak to maintain it. I’d been right about Tania’s brother. He was all raw potential. He’d just needed the right opportunity and some guidance.

“Catch keeps catching.” Drac ruffled Catch’s hair, handing him a glass of whiskey. He filled my glass and his own, and hiked himself up on the edge of my desk.

“I still can’t believe he did that, Prez,” said Catch. “Mikey seemed like a good guy. He seemed all right. Always on time, positive attitude, never complained. He’s insisting he just shot his mouth off when he shouldn’t have. That cop was working undercover as a college kid. I mean, she was really hot, but—”

Drac cracked up laughing. “A female cop got his tongue flapping?”

Catch took a healthy gulp of his liquor. “Yeah.”

“He did it, and you need to believe it,” I said. “People seem to be a lot of things. You need to be ready for all those possibilities.” I leaned back in my chair and enjoyed the sweet searing heat of the whiskey in my mouth.

“Really shouldn’t be trusting the hot chick with her lips around your cock,” said Drac, raising his glass to Catch.

I glanced up at Drac who shot me a grin. He was one of the very few people on this planet I did trust. I’d built my club up in the world of the Flames of Hell with him alongside me and Mishap in the shadows. We were now an island fortress in our piece of the USA.

“Yeah, trust is a very, very fine line,” I said. “A fucking high wire.”

Catch shifted in his seat. “So, uh, Mikey...”

“Tonight.” Drac finished his drink and poured himself another. “Tonight he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

Once the sun fell, the bonfire was fed and burned hungrily in the center pit of the compound. The flames crackled, darting and licking around each other. The heat rose in the crisp night air, lighting up everyone’s faces. Glimmers and shadows. Anticipation and dread.

I motioned to my men and they brought out the informer: Mikey the prospect. His face was bruised and marked. His fingers broken. I had a thing for broken digits. Everyone needed a brand.

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