“What can I do for you, Prospect?” Alejandro’s voice was deadly calm.

 

The kid’s face reddened as he took in the scene: Ali gasping for breath on the workbench, her lips swollen; Alejandro planted between her thighs, unwilling to turn around; the telltale scrap of coral-colored lace signaling from across his boot. Benny’s eyes flickered back to Alejandro’s and he stammered, “Uh… Dobie’s here.”

 

Shit. “Be right there. Give me a minute.”

 

The kid couldn’t get out of there fast enough. It would’ve been hilarious had it not been for Ali, clearly even more embarrassed than Benny had been to be caught like that. She wriggled out of his embrace and snatched her panties. “I should go.”

 

“I won’t take long, Baby. I’ll text you when I’m done.”

 

She nodded, but her smile was forced as she tucked everything back where it belonged and finger-combed her hair.

 

Fuck. She regrets it. Again. He grabbed her wrist and tugged her back to him. Thankfully he met no resistance when he pulled her against him, and her eyes blazed with lust again as he cupped her jaw and brushed his lips over hers. “We’re not done here,” he breathed against her mouth, reaching for her damp panties. “I’ll hold onto to these until later.”

 

If her head was telling her no, it was the only part of her sending that signal. She melted against him, exquisite temptation, and they kissed breathlessly as he tucked the delicate fistful of fabric into his pocket. He was still distractingly hard. With a final soft kiss, she left him, passing Dobie in the doorway.

 

The older man eyed her appreciatively, leaning to watch her walk out of the garage, and Alejandro had to suppress the violent urges caused by Dobie’s lecherous stare. “She’s mine,” he said, a little too forcefully, when Dobie turned back to him and wiggled his bushy eyebrows.

 

“Old lady?” The admiration in his voice was obvious.

 

“Not yet.” But she sure as hell should be.

 

“Feel like sharing?”

 

Just the thought knocked the wind out of him, and he forced himself to sound like he was joking to keep the violent haze at the back of his brain. “Not a chance, you horny bastard. But let me know if you want any pussy, I can find you plenty around here. Lots of beautiful women in Arroyo Flats.” But that one’s off-limits.

 

“So I see.” Dobie took the hint and didn’t press further. “Listen, Shakespeare, I’m here because I’m worried about the Berserkerz.”

 

“Talk to me.” He pulled two bottles of beer from the fridge and handed one to Dobie.

 

“There’s some infighting,” Dobie began, taking a swig of the cold ale. “Normally it wouldn’t be anything to give a shit about, but they’re our link to the DEA. Specifically, Crockett’s our link because his cousin manages to keep the feds off our backs.”

 

“So what’s going on with them that affects us?”

 

“Their Prez told me he thinks Crockett’s going to split off, form his own club. If he goes, that’s another club after a piece of our pie and we no longer have the benefit of that connection.”

 

“If Spidey told you that it must be all but a done deal. Fuck.” He rubbed his head in frustration and paced the floor.

 

“Fuck is right. We can’t afford either loss. Any thoughts?”

 

“We’ve still got Hennesy in our pocket.” Though the local police had the Padre Knights on their radar—a fact not lost on Alejandro, who knew Dawson money secured police loyalty—the sheriff’s department took another stance. They played both sides of the fence as and when it suited them. Sheriff Hennesy was a local boy with a taste for very young whores, and that knowledge had proved beneficial for the Padre Knights in their dealings with him. Although Alejandro despised that aspect of the business, he also knew it was the cost of keeping things running smoothly. When he thought of the money that flowed back into his community to people like his parents, who’d worked hard all their lives to be crushed under the heels of rich white pricks like Carmac Dawson and Police Chief Terry Anderson, he felt perfectly justified if a few prostitutes were part of that bargain.

 

“For now. If ATF shows up, though, we might be fucked.”

 

“Are the warehouses ready?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Is Haji ready with those passports?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“So we’ve got six million dollars of cocaine coming through on six undocumented illegals and now we don't know if we’re safe from the DEA? Jesus...”

 

“For now we’re safe, but once Crockett goes…” Dobie threw his hands up.

 

“Fuck. Nothing can happen to Crockett, you hear me? Maybe we can work something out. I’d hate to split our take three ways, but if it’s gotta be done…” He took a swallow of beer, swore, and took another swallow. Fuck. What a mess.

 

Dobie nodded.

 

“Thanks for telling me. When do we have to meet Haji tomorrow?”

 

“Four o’clock. The other guys already know. We’ll meet at Turk’s house and go from there.”

 

“This handoff tomorrow has to be perfect. You hear me?” He pointed the bottle at Dobie. “Flawless. Make it happen.”