Minus (Burning Saints MC, #1)

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Minus (Burning Saints MC, #1) Page 7

by Jack Davenport


  “Then, why doesn’t Viper change the place back to the way it was? Give all the MCs a place to hang and keep the peace.”

  “I don’t think he’s interested in keeping the peace. I think the only thing Viper is interested in is himself. He acts like he’s some sort of business tycoon or something.

  “Sounds like a charming guy,” Clutch said.

  “Look, it would be really easy to see him as some sort of joke, but the dude is scary.”

  “Scary, how?” I asked.

  “I’m not really comfortable talking about this around here, but just be careful. If you’d heard or seen some of the things I have, you’d listen to what I’m saying.

  “Is he around?” Clutch asked.

  “He usually shows up around one o’ clock in the morning with his rent-a-harem,” she replied.

  I turned to Clutch. “Sounds like he’s not around, so let’s take off and come back later.”

  He nodded.

  “Thanks for the information, Sally Anne,” I said, pulling out another crisp hundred and placing it on her tray. “I think we’ll come back a little later for those beers.”

  “I’ll keep ’em cold for ya,” she said with a smile.

  Clutch and I turned and headed for the exit.

  “Jesus, Minus, you’re passing out Benjamins like they’re candy. You win the lottery or something?”

  “I’ll be sure to put it all in my expense report. I’m guessin’ Cutter will be more than happy to reimburse me once we find his money.”

  “You know, you still haven’t told me exactly how it is you two made up. Last night you wanted to shove Red Dog’s staff up Cutter’s ass, and today you’re ready to tear up holy ground to get his money back. What gives?”

  “I promise I’ll fill you in on all the details as soon as I can. I need you to trust me for now and follow my lead.”

  Clutch stopped and turned to face me. “You never have to ask me to trust you, Minus. I’ll always have your back.”

  “Thanks, man. Now, let’s get the hell outta here. I’m gettin’ a headache.”

  We had almost reached the door when a giant Los Psychos member stepped in front of us, blocking our entire path. Neither Clutch nor I are small men, by any stretch, so believe me when I say this guy was huge; like, Mexican Hulk huge.

  “Whoa, hey there,” Clutch exclaimed, backing up a step. “Is there something we can do... for the three of you?”

  “Viper is curious about the two Burning Saints in his club,” our living roadblock replied coolly.

  “It’s always flattering to know that people have been thinking about you,” Clutch said. “Don’t you think so, Minus?”

  “Indeed, it is. What was his name again?”

  “Don’t get cute. You know exactly who Viper is.”

  “Oh, Viper.” Clutch snapped his fingers in mock remembrance. “Yeah, we heard of him. Sorry, the music is very loud in here, I couldn’t hear you very well. I coulda sworn you said douchebag.”

  Apparently Mexican Hulk doesn’t turn green when he’s angry, he turns bright red and he reaches for a gun in his waistband.

  “Okay, fellas,” I said, attempting to deescalate things. “No need to make a mess in such a... charming place. What does Viper want?”

  “He wants to see both you guys right now,” he grunted.

  “He’s here?” I asked.

  “He’s in the back, in his office. C’mon, let’s go.”

  I nodded, and he escorted us down a narrow hallway which led to a room marked, “The Boss.” As much as I didn’t like this gorilla giving us orders, or not knowing what we were walking into, I figured if we were here to find out about Viper, meeting the man himself would be a good way to start; if we made it out of the meeting alive.

  The office door was open, and as we approached, I could see the room was filled with at least a half-dozen Los Psychos members. They were standing in a circle, surrounding another man, who was down on his knees. I could hear angry, muffled voices, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. What words I could make out were in Spanish, which didn’t particularly help me. One word I did recognize was “no,” which was now being yelled repeatedly, followed by screams of pain, then an unsettling silence.

  Moments later, several men filed out carrying a large plastic tarp, and two Los Psychos members assisted the “middle man” past us in the hallway. He was bound at the wrists, and could barely stand. He was shirtless, and I could see club tats all over his chest and arms. One of his handlers held a bar towel to his back, which was soaked in blood. This guy had clearly been worked over pretty good.

  “Let’s go,” our oversized escort said, and he motioned us inside.

  The office’s decor, like the rest of the pool hall was over the top and ultra-modern. The walls were adorned with framed movie posters of Scarface and the Fast and the Furious, along with murals of Che Guevara, and Pancho Villa.

  The office was occupied by one person; a man in a purple suit, standing in front of an oversized mahogany desk, wiping blood off a large bowie knife. On the desk sat a brass name plate that read Viper – Chief Executive Officer.

  “Gentlemen, please come in,” he said, before setting the knife down and coming over to shake our hands. “I’m sorry about all the mess and the noise. We had a bit of a housekeeping problem, but it’s all cleared up, for now at least.”

  Viper was young, handsome, and looked nothing like any MC president I’d ever seen. Hell, he didn’t look like any kind of biker I’d ever seen. He looked more like a telenovela star, playing the role of a drug lord. His jet-black hair was slicked back, and he spoke with a thick Mexican accent.

  “My name is Viper, and you’ve met my assistant, Crush,” he said in a velvety smooth tone, motioning toward Mexican Hulk, which I was now fully convinced was a far better club name.

  “Charmed, I’m fuckin’ sure,” I said.

  “I wanted to welcome you both to my club.”

  “Club?” I asked. “Last time I was here, this place was a pool hall... for bikers.”

  “Well, let’s just say the place is in its... transitional phase. When it’s complete, the Nine Ball will have a little something for everyone. We still hope to cater to the old clientele’s needs while expanding toward the future, which is precisely why I wanted to talk with you two gentlemen tonight.”

  “I think you might have us confused with someone else. You keep calling us gentlemen, and I’m not quite sure that’s really our deal. You see, we came here tonight to have a few beers and shoot some pool—”

  “But you two were leaving so soon?”

  “I was getting a headache,” Clutch said. “I think it’s the combination of the shitty music, and the stench of Drakar Noir and cheap puss―”

  “You, I recognize from around town,” Viper interrupted, pointing at Clutch before turning his attention back to me. “But you, I don’t know.”

  “Well, my name is Minus, and I’m a Sagittarius. I enjoy long walks on the beach, going to the theater, and knowing what the fuck is going on around here.”

  “You are funny guys. You two should do a podcast or something. Don’t you think so, Crush?”

  Mexican Hulk nodded but remained expressionless.

  Viper continued, “I have a great sense of humor, too, but I also know when to be serious. I wonder if you gentlemen know when it’s time to get serious?”

  Clutch puffed his chest out. “Oh, I can be serious as a fucking heart-attack, muchacho—”

  “What my associate Mr. Clutch means is, we can talk business, if business is the topic of discussion.”

  Viper smiled. “I’m glad to hear that, because I wasn’t sure if what you saw earlier impressed upon you just how serious of a man I can be.”

  “And exactly what was it that we were meant to have seen?” I asked.

  “That was a de-patching party. His name is Loro, which means parrot. He’s called that because of his many colorful tattoos. Little did I know, just like a fucking par
rot, he’d repeat things said to him. So, tonight, I began removing some of his feathers, one-by-one, and I’ll continue to do so until every trace of my club is gone from his worthless body.” He shrugged. “It might take days. He has a lot feathers.”

  “So, what’s your little tattoo removal service got to do with us?” I asked.

  “Apparently one of the people Loro flapped his beak to often was a garage owner named Phil.”

  “So?”

  “So, Mr. Minus—”

  “Just Minus,” I said.

  “And why do they call you that?”

  “Because I’m good at making people disappear.”

  “Interesting that you bring that up, because shortly after Loro last spoke with Phil, two members of the Burning Saints visited him. Since then, no one has heard from him, or been able to locate him. Now two Burning Saints show up in my club.”

  “So, are we putting that information in the funny or the serious column?”

  Viper’s lips formed a slight smile, but his eyes burned with anger. “I have to apologize that I didn’t quite make the impression on you gentlemen that I intended.”

  “Now, don’t be too sure about that,” I said. “If your intention was to show us that you’re a psychopath that mutilates his own people due to his own personal fuckups, then let me assure you, message received. Wouldn’t you say, Clutch?”

  “Roger, 10-4. I read ya loud and clear, good buddy.” Clutch turned to me and smiled. “Hey, remember when we were little kids and we saw Smokey and the Bandit on TV, and for like a month, we were obsessed with being truckers and we practiced CB slang—”

  “Clearly, you don’t understand what’s happening here,” Viper said, raising his voice.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s you that doesn’t quite get the picture here,” I said. “The Nine Ball may be your place now, not that I’d brag about that, but the Saints will burn it down with you and all your crew inside of it, if you so much as touch us. You don’t have the numbers or the muscle to start a war with us, so you might want to back the fuck off.”

  Viper seethed but said nothing.

  “As for business, the only thing we came to talk about involves two duffle bags containing three million dollars in cash. That money belongs to Cutter and the Burning Saints. We have information that tells us you may have come across this money in error. If that’s the case, we want it back by noon tomorrow. We will, of course, be happy to provide you with a finder’s fee once the money is retuned in full.”

  “And, if your information is incorrect and I don’t have your three million?”

  “Then Cutter would greatly appreciate you locating his money, retrieving it from those that do, and delivering it to him by noon. Of course, the same finder’s fee applies.”

  “I see,” Viper said, once again smiling. “And, what if I didn’t come across your money in error, as you said, but I’d actually willfully taken it from the Burning Saints?”

  “Then, you’d be one dumbass motherfucker,” Clutch said, his fists balled at his side.

  “Perhaps,” Viper hissed. “But what if I, theoretically of course, had stolen the money for a very good reason?”

  I took a step closer to Viper and Crush pulled his gun, aiming it at my chest. I casually showed him my hands, and backed up one single step.

  “That’s enough, Crush, put that away. These gentlemen and I are only talking here; hypothetically actually.”

  “You see, Mister Viper, that’s where you’re dead wrong,” I said. “We’re very much speaking in real terms about real money, and if you keep jerking me around, you’re gonna have a real fucking problem.”

  “Then let me be very clear with you, I not only took Cutter’s money, but I’ve already spent it. Just now, as a matter of fact.” Viper smiled wide.

  “On what, exactly?” I asked.

  “Your full attention.”

  Minus

  I was thankful to find the hotel gym was open twenty-four hours a day. It was just after three a.m. and I was still wired from the meeting with Viper. Having a gun pulled on you tends to cause a bit of an adrenaline spike. I was going to need to work off some of this energy if I was going to get any sleep at all. I put my earbuds in, turned the treadmill speed up, and tried to clear my head of all things club related. The treadmill faced a glass wall, overlooking the Portland city scape. I was the only hotel guest in the gym, so I’d left all the room lights off, and ran in only the soft glow of the city lights.

  In truth, the only physical activity I wanted to be doing involved Cricket. As a matter of fact, I wanted to do just about every physical activity possible with her. Time had not lessened my desire for her. I’d been able to stow my feelings away while I was gone, but they’d never died. It’s not like I sat around pining for her or anything, but living a somewhat isolated life kept me from ever having anything close to a relationship, and I’d certainly never met anyone like her while in Savannah.

  As my pace matched the rhythm of the music, my thoughts began to drift, and focused solely on Cricket.

  “You sure, Cricket?” I asked, her soft body pressed against mine in my room at the compound.

  “Are you?” she challenged, cupping my dick over my jeans. “You’re the one who seems all squirrelly about it.”

  “Fuck,” I rasped.

  She ran her tongue over my pulse as she slid her hand under the waistband of my jeans and down my already rock-hard cock. “I want all of this.”

  I nodded, kissing her and sliding my tongue deep in her mouth. This was our third time sleeping together, and she’d begged me to go ungloved. I’d never fucked anyone without a condom, but Cricket wasn’t just anyone and I wanted it more than I was willing to admit out loud.

  “Your brother’ll fuckin’ kill me.”

  “My brother isn’t going to know anything about it,” she countered, meeting my eyes. “I love you, Jase. You said you loved me back. Were you lying?”

  “No fuckin’ way.”

  She smiled, the dimple on her right cheek sinking in and I couldn’t stop myself from running my thumb over it.

  “I’ve been on the pill for three months,” she said. “You got tested. Why are you being such a pussy about it?”

  I chuckled. Goddamn, I loved this woman. We might not be much more than kids, but I knew how I felt.

  “You callin’ me a pussy?”

  She tapped my chin with her finger. “Only if you don’t get your face in mine pretty damn quick-like.”

  “Strip,” I demanded, and she did. Immediately.

  I did the same and we fell in a heap of naked body parts on the bed. She grabbed my face and studied me. “I’m really looking forward to you eating me out, Jase, but if you could make it quick, I’d appreciate it, because I’d really, really, super-duper, like your dick inside of me.”

  I grinned, kissing her as I thumbed her clit. “I can make that happen.”

  Rolling her onto her back, I rolled her nipple between my fingers and kissed my way down her belly and between her legs. I alternated between sucking her clit and running my tongue between her slick folds as her hips arched up with every pass I took.

  Her body began to shake as an orgasm flooded over her and I kissed her belly again, then settled the tip of my cock at her entrance.

  “Jase,” she whispered, and I plunged in.

  No condom, her tight heat constricting around me, I moved in and out through her climax, feeling every contraction of her orgasm. I didn’t think I could get harder, but then she wrapped her legs around my hips and arched to meet my thrusts, and I lost it.

  Growling, I slammed into her over and over again until I knew I couldn’t prolong the inevitable.

  “Now, baby,” she begged, and I exploded.

  She wasn’t far behind and I rolled us so we were chest-to-chest on our sides.

  “Goddamn, I—”

  A shock of fluorescent light flooded my eyes, snapping me back to reality. I pulled an earbud out, and turned to see a surp
rised janitor pushing a utility cart.

  “Oh, sorry sir, I didn’t realize anyone was in here in the dark.”

  “That’s okay,” I replied. “I think I’m done here anyway.” I stepped off the treadmill and grabbed a towel. “Take it easy,” I said, as I passed him.

  “You too, sir. Thank you for staying with us and enjoy your stay.”

  I nodded while his words rang through my head.

  Enjoy your stay.

  My stay? Was I staying? What the fuck was I doing here? How had I let Cutter and Cricket, two people I’d spent the last six years purging from my soul, back in so quickly, and deeply? Even though I’d been sent to Savannah against my will, I’d built a life there. I got along with my crew well enough, and my work with Duke at the ranch was important to me. Not to mention, he and Pearl weren’t getting any younger, and depended on my help more and more.

  I toweled off and headed back to my room, no less relaxed or clear-headed than I’d started. Perhaps by some miracle I could squeeze a few hours of sleep in before my meeting with Cutter. I wasn’t looking forward to delivering Viper’s message, and was hoping my evening meeting with Cricket would be better. Maybe she’d snap me back to reality and remind me of just how crazy Cutter’s idea was.

  * * *

  Cricket

  How the hell was I supposed to concentrate on work today? I had a proposal due to Jeremy Marville (the new owner of the company) no later than two, and I’d been staring at a blank computer screen for the past hour.

  When Maisie had sold her multi-million-dollar sex toy company, she’d made some provisions for me. Firstly, she’d promoted me from her assistant to Marketing Director, then elicited a promise from Jeremy that I’d have one year to prove myself. If I wasn’t able to make him unable to live without me by then, I was on my own.

  But, here I was, my third year in, and all was well; unchallenging, boring, and predictable, but well. I mean, who wouldn’t want the chance to test out every new sex toy coming on the market and figure out which demographic to sell it to? Not me, that’s for damn sure. And considering I hadn’t dated anyone seriously in almost the same amount of time I’d been working for the company, I needed anything new that could ease my pain, so to speak.

 

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