Page 17 of Bound By Temptation

“First, we gotta take it to the club.” My father rubbed a hand over his face. “Cruz will either call Old Red himself or have one of us do it.” He pointed between himself and Uncle Breaker. “Gotta find out how deep this is gonna affect the club.”

Uncle Breaker rubbed his hands down his face. “You know he told Old Red we’d fork up the money, and that shit ain’t happenin’.”

“Yeah, but if Old Red is expectin’ it from us, what the fuck are we gonna do? Old Red doesn’t fuck around,” I stated.

“Let’s get to the clubhouse and sit down with Cruz. Then we go from there,” my father said, getting up from his chair. “You two don’t need to be there. It’s our fucking mess to take care of.

“You’ll let us know, though, if there’s something we can do, right?” Raid asked, getting up from the table.

“Yep. Sure. Cruz will call church, and you can find out what we’re gonna have to do then.”

I rose from my chair and gave my father and uncle a chin lift. “You need anything, call me.”

Leaning over to my mom, I kissed her cheek. “Gotta run. Got shit to do.”

My father walked over, putting his hand on my shoulder and squeezing. “Thank you, son.” He then slapped Raid’s shoulder, saying the same. “Now get to work.”

On a chuckle, Raid and I headed to the clubhouse. We had a new supplier and needed to prep for the delivery.

Cruz was going to be pissed about Nick. But Ravage had Ravage’s back. Nick would be swinging with a noose around his neck.

6

INDIE

“This is great,”Blaine said after chewing and swallowing the peanut butter bar I freshly made this morning, considering I knew he’d be here and needed to make sure everything was ready for the bakery to open.

I kept the baked goods on a bit of a rotation and would make several servings of each, but once the treat was gone, there was no more for the rest of the day. It was the only way that I could keep all the customers happy. And keep demand up.

There was no way I’d be able to make every single treat I wanted to every day. It just wasn’t feasible. Instead, I started doing this rotation, and it had been doing very well.

The morning rush of people strode in and out, patrons saying hi to me every time.

“Thanks.” While I knew my pastries were delicious, the compliments still embarrassed me a bit. Or maybe it was just him. His compliments made me happy.

“What do you like best here?” he asked me.

We were sitting off to the side where the big window was letting all the sunlight from the day in. It was warm and semi-private.

“Gingerdoodles. My GramO’s recipe, and it’s the best.”

“You have any up there?” He nodded to the glass cabinet.

“Nope. Haven’t had them up there in a while. I like to only make them when GramO can come and do it with me.”

“I know your GramO means a lot to you.”

“Yeah. She does.”

“How’d the dinosaur go last night.”

“Great! There’s still a lot of work to be done, but the green fondant makes it look like a dino. I can show ya later.” I took a sip of my caramel macchiato and set the cup down to the table. The plan in the beginning was to use actual mugs, but the dishes became too much and keeping ahead of them drove me nuts. Paper it was.

The customers liked it, and that was what mattered.

“I’d like that.”

“After you’re done then.” I pointed to his double chocolate covered in chocolate donut. They were seriously good.

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