Page 10 of Three Beasts

Chapter 8

Wade

I’m still wracked with guilt that Zeva had to bear witness to that side of this life.

I know she’s not innocent, but this life isn’t just strippers and whores. At the end of the day, the Honeypot is a lot more than what it seems. It’s been a secure front for money laundering of The Order’s drug deals for generations, in all its different names and functions. I was the first to make it a truly successful business to solidify its cover. Was that a mistake, putting everyone there in danger? Putting Zeva in danger?

I stare at the bike part I’ve been idly going at with a wrench for the past 10 minutes, accomplishing nothing. I toss it to the side and it rolls and clanks loudly next to a line of 15 rather expensive looking bikes.

I always knew what I wanted and needed to do. My father kept The Order afloat in some very rough times and I always told myself I’d make him proud, but with everything that’s happened…

The garage door slowly slides open letting copious amounts of sunlight in. I squint past the light to see Jason looking concerned. He steps in the large doorway. Jason stepped up as my VP after my original one acted the fool and went out by himself to get revenge. Jason’s grandparents were in the original founding group of The Order, so it’s in his blood as much as it is mine.

I count on him pretty heavily. He calls me out on my shit when I need called on, but he supports my actions when I need that too. The fact that he doesn’t fear me has honestly been instrumental in gaining the ground we hold to this day. He keeps me on my toes and is a voice of reason whenever I’m clouded.

“I’ll never get over this place,” Jason says. “It’s nearly a goddamn military bunker. How do you live here?”

“Its home,” I say. I’m proud of the fortress my family has built here, but he’s right. It’s not exactly cozy, but it’s not supposed to be.

“Well, our fears were right. A bunch of assholes calling themselves The Iron Legion are on their way here. Word is they’ve taken out two MC presidents so far, and that they’re trying to corner the drug trade in the whole fucking state. Greedy fucks…”

“We’re always ready for war,” I say, but I don’t think I really believe it. Scuffles over territory here and there are common, but war means death. I’m not ready to see any of my brothers die.

“Cole is gonna be up your ass on this one, you know. He’ll have to be. Sure he knows the difference of one MC to the next, but the public doesn’t and they’ll be scared,” he says as he sits next to me.

I stand up as he sits down and walks out of the large garage. Jason shrugs and follows. I survey the complex in front of me. These grey stone walls protect me well, and I’ve called them home for as long as I care to remember. Between the strategic protections and hidden pathways, as well as the lavish comforts I’ve built inside, a handful of people can hole up here comfortably for weeks. But this is more than just survival. Reputation and business for hundreds of people and many generations are on the line.

I touch the bandage on my face thinking about yesterday’s events, as well as the ones a few nights ago.Mostly about the other evening. We all obviously care for Zeva, and are willing to lay down our lives to protect her. Is that what she’s looking for though? She grew up in this same environment and it orphaned her. It’s completely unforgiving. You don’t grow old dealing drugs.

She’s softened me, I think, even in such a short time. But I can’t let that show. I have a duty to my men, my home, and my club. I can’t keep letting thoughts like this distract me. I have to be focused for what’s going to come.

“I’m heading up to Honeypot … I need to clear my head. You coming, Jason?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t forget to lock up,” Jason says.

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