time you can’t pay, you’re going to wish you never met me.”
He went to each point of contact, collecting money and dishing out a beating when they didn’t pay. While his friends liked to use the threat of weaponry, he liked his fists. It was messier and it had more feeling behind it. Plus, he liked the sound of bones crushing when his fist made contact with a face.
“You head back to the club,” Ryker told Vampire. “I need to take care of some business and then I’ll meet up with you.”
“What business?” Vampire asked. “I thought we had everything we needed.”
“I’ve got something else I’ve got to do.” Ryker glanced past him. “Go on. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Vampire wasn’t easily fooled. “You know I’ve got your back. What are you wanting to do?”
Ryker trusted very few club members. Most held a sincere loyalty toward his father and all the bad deeds he promoted within the club. He didn’t fucking want to go around spreading his plans for those that had wronged him.
“Can I trust you?”
Vampire stared at him. “Yes.”
“Are you bullshitting with me?”
Vampire cleared his throat. “If I were, would you even be having this conversation with me? I’ve ridden by your side for years. We patched in together. I thought we were best friends.”
“We are. Doesn’t mean shit in this world, though. Can I trust you?”
Vampire stared at him for what felt like the longest few seconds of his life. “I’ve got your back no matter what. You .”
Ryker trusted him. If he trusted anyone in the club, Vampire and Superman were the top two. “Ghost has been stealing from the club. I caught him taking a kilo of cocaine for himself. I carried five. He carried five. He only delivered four.” He cleared his throat. “I wondered what the fuck he was doing with it. When I followed him, he took it to a Young Blood production house. He’s been trading coke for guns from those bastards under the table from the rest of the club. I know Razor isn’t going to do anything about it. Ghost is his little pet. So I decided to handle it myself.”
Vampire propped his hands on his hips. “That would explain why some of Young Blood’s coke whores are selling higher quality shit. It’s cutting out our profits and sending our customers to Young Blood.”
“Yeah. I know. They get them hooked on the good shit that we sell and then trade it out when they’re addicted for the shit they sell. Ghost is orchestrating this and it needs to be handled.”
“You don’t think Razor would do anything?”
It wasn’t that he thought his father wouldn’t do anything. He was fairly certain that he would. The problem was that Ryker wanted to be the one to fix the problem. He wanted to see the bastard take his last breath. It was the least the fucker deserved and he wanted it to be him that dished out the consequences.
“I don’t know. Do you?”
Vampire pursed his lips. “Your father isn’t a bad leader. I know you two butt heads like two bucks fighting for a doe, but he is the president. The rules of the club should be followed no matter what. It prevents mayhem from ensuing.”
Vampire was right. Dammit. Ryker pulled off a glove and rubbed his forehead. He didn’t have any proof of Ghost other than a few pictures he’d snapped with his phone. There was no way that his father would have approved of it, and he knew the fucking club didn’t. The stupid bastard would probably talk his way out of it, though. He always fucking did.
“Take it to the club,” Vampire commented. “Let the process handle it the way it should.”
Ryker nodded. He could play by the rules, but when dealing with rogues, the rules went out the window. He got on his bike and led the way back to the club. He avoided Hartford Street to the best of his ability. He didn’t need to go by the free clinic just to dredge up the past. He might be tempted to pull his fucking bike in and stop by just to say hi.
He didn’t
He went to each point of contact, collecting money and dishing out a beating when they didn’t pay. While his friends liked to use the threat of weaponry, he liked his fists. It was messier and it had more feeling behind it. Plus, he liked the sound of bones crushing when his fist made contact with a face.
“You head back to the club,” Ryker told Vampire. “I need to take care of some business and then I’ll meet up with you.”
“What business?” Vampire asked. “I thought we had everything we needed.”
“I’ve got something else I’ve got to do.” Ryker glanced past him. “Go on. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Vampire wasn’t easily fooled. “You know I’ve got your back. What are you wanting to do?”
Ryker trusted very few club members. Most held a sincere loyalty toward his father and all the bad deeds he promoted within the club. He didn’t fucking want to go around spreading his plans for those that had wronged him.
“Can I trust you?”
Vampire stared at him. “Yes.”
“Are you bullshitting with me?”
Vampire cleared his throat. “If I were, would you even be having this conversation with me? I’ve ridden by your side for years. We patched in together. I thought we were best friends.”
“We are. Doesn’t mean shit in this world, though. Can I trust you?”
Vampire stared at him for what felt like the longest few seconds of his life. “I’ve got your back no matter what. You .”
Ryker trusted him. If he trusted anyone in the club, Vampire and Superman were the top two. “Ghost has been stealing from the club. I caught him taking a kilo of cocaine for himself. I carried five. He carried five. He only delivered four.” He cleared his throat. “I wondered what the fuck he was doing with it. When I followed him, he took it to a Young Blood production house. He’s been trading coke for guns from those bastards under the table from the rest of the club. I know Razor isn’t going to do anything about it. Ghost is his little pet. So I decided to handle it myself.”
Vampire propped his hands on his hips. “That would explain why some of Young Blood’s coke whores are selling higher quality shit. It’s cutting out our profits and sending our customers to Young Blood.”
“Yeah. I know. They get them hooked on the good shit that we sell and then trade it out when they’re addicted for the shit they sell. Ghost is orchestrating this and it needs to be handled.”
“You don’t think Razor would do anything?”
It wasn’t that he thought his father wouldn’t do anything. He was fairly certain that he would. The problem was that Ryker wanted to be the one to fix the problem. He wanted to see the bastard take his last breath. It was the least the fucker deserved and he wanted it to be him that dished out the consequences.
“I don’t know. Do you?”
Vampire pursed his lips. “Your father isn’t a bad leader. I know you two butt heads like two bucks fighting for a doe, but he is the president. The rules of the club should be followed no matter what. It prevents mayhem from ensuing.”
Vampire was right. Dammit. Ryker pulled off a glove and rubbed his forehead. He didn’t have any proof of Ghost other than a few pictures he’d snapped with his phone. There was no way that his father would have approved of it, and he knew the fucking club didn’t. The stupid bastard would probably talk his way out of it, though. He always fucking did.
“Take it to the club,” Vampire commented. “Let the process handle it the way it should.”
Ryker nodded. He could play by the rules, but when dealing with rogues, the rules went out the window. He got on his bike and led the way back to the club. He avoided Hartford Street to the best of his ability. He didn’t need to go by the free clinic just to dredge up the past. He might be tempted to pull his fucking bike in and stop by just to say hi.
He didn’t
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