Page 59 of Come Back To Me

I haven’t got time for this shit. “No idea.” But perhaps if he’d treated her better, she wouldn’t have taken off the way she did.

I look around, noticing The Joker and Skitz are the most hard-faced men in the room. They don’t trust the Saviours walking in one bit. Len also hasn’t taken his eyes off the men in suits. Pissed off they may be, but they’re still on board. If they weren’t, one false move would trip a chain of events we can’t handle right now. We need this fucking deal if we’re to survive. Otherwise, the Saviours will take it for themselves, and we can’t let that happen.

One of the men carries an air of authority. This can only be Costa. “Gentlemen,” he says. He walks around Dean’s seat, his finger trailing across the back as if he’s contemplating sitting there. Fucking coffee loving, bald headed prick. My first impression of this foreigner isn’t good. “I know you have your own business to discuss, but I’d appreciate it if we conclude ours first. I’m a busy man.”

Eyes flick at each other. Faces tighten all around me. Where the fuck did this guy come from? “First off, who am I talking to here? Just so I know who’s in charge.” He sits at the other end of the table.

Dick move. Trying to cause tension when we need unity. I look at Vincent. He wants to say him, but this is the Rippers’ clubhouse. “I guess it’s me.”

Costa smirks. “You guess?”

Fuck me, I want to cut him so bad. Probably because I don’t tend to trust guys as pristine as him. “In here, you talk to me. ButI can assure you,” I raise a hand, gesturing towards my guys, “I don’t consider myself better than any of the Rippers in here.”

“What about those not in here?” he asks smugly.

Jesus this guy’s riling me. Bar a few hangarounds downstairs, the only men not in close proximity who wear our cut are Dean and Legs. Dean I trust with my life. And Legs, well, he may be young but he had a tough start.

Dean gave him an opportunity to sort his shit out. He’s trustworthy as fuck in my eyes. Trustworthy enough to make him Mads’ shadow for the foreseeable. “Like you said, we have our own business to discuss—”

“Travis,” Mop warns. I look at him, and he shakes his head subtly. “This business is important, brother.” He’s telling me to rein it in. He can see me getting pissed off.

Costa laughs as he sits straighter, unbuttoning his suit jacket. “You’re right, I digress. Let’s discuss how I’m going to make you all rich.”

The man stood behind Costa is dressed similarly to him. Round glasses sit on his face. He peers over the rim as he moves forward, handing over a file.

He must be fucking Starbucks.

“Shall I get straight into it?” Costa asks.

I nod as Starbucks steps back.

“As previously discussed, shipments will be once a month. Routes for transport get locked down a few days before. This ensures safety for all parties. The less routine things are, the less likely we are to get caught. With the first shipment, Sodom Saviours will offload the guns on the west coast.” He points to a map, tapping his finger to the paper. “From there, Rippers MC transports through to the east coast where my men will be waiting to offload onto my boat set for Amsterdam.”

That’s not what Dean signed off on when he and Vincent worked this proposal out months ago. “As we agreed? I don’tremember Rippers agreeing to carry all the risk?” Costa smiles as I speak. “Sodom Saviours offload the guns and transport. Rippers earn by facilitating. Not transporting.”

“I can see why you’d think that…?”

This fucker’s waiting for my name like he didn’t just hear it. I grind my molars, swallowing every morsel of restraint I have. “Travis,” I force out.

He smiles again, knowing just how much he’s getting to me. “I can see why you’d think that, Travis,” he says in his subtle I don’t know what the fuck accent, that wicked grin still plastered across his face. “But thatiswhat your boss wanted, right? No Saviour was to stop on his turf?” He holds his hands out, looking around the table.

“That’s right,” Vincent pipes up. “We have a deal with Scottish charters to transport our guns. Rippers have their southern charters to move their drugs. The north… it was harder to come to an understanding. Saviours can pass through, but we don’t stop.”

Costa’s eyes look from Vincent to me. Our eyes are locked sat directly opposite each other. “Enlighten me, please,” he says.

Without looking away from Vincent, I open my mouth to talk. “You wanting to go through our home turf... it shifts the balance.” I hear The Joker suck his teeth and feel eyes boring into me. “Saviours don’t stop within our borders, never have.”

Costa laughs. “Sorry, I thought we were hardened fucking criminals?” Neither me nor Vincent speaks. Costa looks between us again. “Sounds like you’re still sucking on your mother’s small tits.”

I look at him then. Vincent follows. “Our arrangement with the Saviours stopped families getting hurt. This new business—we want to keep the peace, but the Rippers can’t carry all that risk,” I tell him.

“Then you need to let us stop within your bord—”

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Costa says, not allowing Vincent to finish. His voice isn’t as pushy as I thought it might be, but I still don’t like how goddamn righteous this prick is being. “Straight through your turf is the quickest route for the pipelines I’ve secured. Youwilltransport directly from the west coast to the east coast,” he says to me. “You pick up from the given location, and you drop off at the port my boat leaves from. That way, you protect your invisible lines you seem to care so much for, and I get my fucking cargo out of this country.”

The fucking balls on this guy. “And if we say no?” I ask.

Costa’s eyes rise to mine. He sits so still you wouldn’t even know he was breathing. “You say no, you’re going to feel the full weight of that from the south to the most northern territory you own. Saviours will rule your precious land, and nobody will ever know who the fuck your little club was.”

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