Page 28 of Flint

“You got a thought, Flint? Spit it out. You know I don’t do all this cloak-and-dagger shit.”

I shrug. It’s only half an idea, but it’s floated around for a few months, so it’s more than just scribbles on paper. “Chains was locked up for assault.”

“Your point?” Bulldog draws out, almost in warning.

I get it—the man’s closer than close to him. They’re more like blood brothers than brothers of the club.

“He never did it,” I remind them. “If the same people ran his show, why would it be any different for Mad Max? We kept quiet about the truth, but maybe it’s time we show a few what really happened.”

“We ain’t got the evidence,” Law chirps, but I see I’ve piqued his interest. The law has always intrigued him, and he knows more about it than the rest of us. He knows what’s needed to get our man out.

“We don’t have that evidence, but we got enough to prove the point. They fucked up. We could go public, or….”

I trail off as Law nods, getting it. “Or we take it private and give them a reason to release our guy sooner than later. A little blackmail, but hell, the law would be on our side this time. Funny how that doesn’t happen often.”

“Ten to one, I bet you could use some of the lawyer jargon you studied to make it even come across classy as shit. They see it as a benefit for them as opposed to what it is: extortion.” I cross my arms to finalize my point.

My brothers smile wide as they nod, and I just tip my head in acknowledgment before exiting. I’ve got a shit ton of work to do, and I just know Casper messed with my system. It’ll take at least an hour to get shit back to normal. If we’re leaving tomorrow, I might be able to catch a few hours of sleep before we go.

Ain’t lucky enough to get some club vamp before I hit the road, though. But as I head down the stairs and skate the outskirts of the room to go to my office, I catch a certain giggle on the air that has me thinking maybe a vamp ain’t as great as it was a day ago.

Chapter 12 – Julianne

F

lint set me up in a corner booth with a Diet Coke. I might actually start falling in love with the man if he keeps bringing me these. I didn’t even have to ask this time; it just sort of appeared on the table as he was heading to his meeting.

And guess what? I fucking love coloring. Who knew? Well, I guess a few people, but I didn’t. And I’m kind of good at it. I can stay in the lines and shit, and I don’t think it’s half bad. But after the third picture of a unicorn on a rainbow in the coloring book, I’ve hit my limit.

Which is probably why I got so interested in the pool game to my right. I mean, what else was I going to look at? Bikers drinking and a few girls doing what must be lap dances? And if they are lap dances, they’re terrible at them. Unless they’re legitimately fucking the guy sitting down and doing all the work, as the men seem less than interested. If that’s the case, that’s even worse. Because A, that’s disgusting to watch, just for the simple fact that there’s no hair and makeup porno master here to make the girls look camera ready. And B, well, if a guy ain’t at least trying, then can you really claim you’re doing it right? Not that I got a memory for what my experience level is, but come on, I feel like this is basic knowledge.

“Ha! That’s $300. Pay up, asshole,” the thinner of the two bikers at the pool table smarts off at the other. Both are kind of scrawny if I compare them to the rest of the members of the Hounds. Guess they didn’t get their gym membership. Huh, wonder if I have one.

“Nah, it’s $250 at the most. Besides, you rigged it. Never even let me get a shot in,” the other snarls. Got to admit, it’s not a cute look on him.

“I didn’t rig nothings. Cough it up. You’re the one who said thirty-five bucks a ball.”

“Actually, he owes you $315.” I immediately realize my mistake. I talked. Apparently girls in this place just keep that part of themselves closed while the rest is open.

“What you say?” Snarly is quick to turn his eyes on me, and not in a good way.

“Ahhh, you were playing nine ball, right? Nine balls in, $35 a ball, so it’s $315, not $300.” I end on what I hope is a charming smile, but I can feel my eyebrows dipping together in question, so I’m sure I look a bit strange.

“Who asked you, bitch?”

“Yeah, who asked ya?”

Okay, so not even the guy getting fifteen extra dollars is happy I chimed in.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” I look back down at my drawings, resigned to keep quiet the rest of this fun-filled visit to the club.

“Well, that’s exactly what you did. Now what you going to do about it?”

Yup, big mistake. Huge. Because I realize that as these two are walking toward me, no one else is paying attention. I know like five faces in this place, and none of them seem to be present right now. Fantastic.

“Back off. She doesn’t owe you shit. She ain’t no vamp, and she just proved you have zero brains, so fuck off, the both of you.” The deep voice comes from behind the guys, so I see nothing, but I already know I like her, whoever she is.

“And who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, sweetheart? Pretty sure any bitch here is up for grabs, and that includes you. So why not put that mouth to some good use?” Snarly spits a bit when he talks. I wonder if anyone else notices or if it’s just when he says shit that isn’t very nice.

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