Chapter NINETEEN

FINN FLINCHED at the sudden noise of Rocky slamming his fist onto the desk. So much for his understanding and sympathy toward Finn’s illness. Finn clenched his jaw as he wondered why he’d thought things would be any different. He sucked in a breath and straightened his shoulders. Show no fear. Don’t be pushed around. He wasn’t going to let Rocky give him a hard time.

“For God’s sake, Rocky, I was sick. If I’d been able to be here, then I would have been. But I’m here now, and I’m ready to give it 100 percent. So how about we get down to business?” Finn didn’t give Rocky time to respond. He opened the lid of his laptop and launched his browser. “Now I’m assuming you’re here to discuss the stuff Lucky mentioned at the barbecue. When’s the shipment arriving, and what are the next steps?”

Rocky settled into the desk chair opposite Finn, and Stack leaned against the wall next to a framed poster of a girl sitting astride a bike. Peter eyed Rocky nervously and lowered himself into the other vacant seat. Finn looked at the three men and tried not to look too eager for the information he hoped would come. He wanted Rocky to trust him, to open up and let him in on the details of that side of the business.

“Two weeks. We’ll be intercepting the delivery, separating the parts that will come here, the rest bypassing this place. We’re moving the stuff interstate straightaway. Plus there’s a buyer we’ve been negotiating with. If things go according to plan, we might not have to move very far at all.” Finn nearly cheered as Rocky shared the information.

“So Friday in a fortnight, you’ll be meeting the shipping container, unloading what you need, and taking off?” he asked casually. “And you’re going too?” It seemed unusual that Rocky would be so directly involved, not when he had men for that.

Rocky nodded. “I’m taking a hands-on approach with this one. Got to keep an eye on things.”

“So what’s different about this shipment?”

Rocky leaned forward, the leather of his jacket creaking as he leaned on the edge of the desk and lowered his voice. “This is a first for us. If it goes well, there’s no telling where it could lead.”

Did that mean what Finn thought it did? That this was the first time they’d been involved in the direct importation of drugs?

“And you think there’s a chance there could be trouble?” Finn asked, trying to keep his tone conversational.

“Like I said, it’s a first. Lucky has hand-held this deal the whole way through from Asia to onshore. And we’ve got distribution sorted. Ordinarily we’d be pretty confident, but with all the shit going down with the Brutes, I don’t want to take any chances. They know too much of what’s going on, information they shouldn’t know.”

“How?”

“How the fuck do I know?” Rocky bristled. “Maybe someone’s got loose lips. Plus the cops are sticking their noses in. The fucking shooting brought the cops to my street!” Rocky shoved his chair back and stood. He began pacing the small office. “If I find out we’ve got a mole, if I find out some stupid fucking arsehole has been spilling our business, God help them, I’ll break their bloody legs.”

Finn felt sick to the stomach and chanced a glance at Peter. He looked positively green as he fidgeted in his seat. Finn swallowed heavily and forced his voice to stay steady. “You really think someone’s ratting us out?”

Rocky flopped into the chair again. “I don’t know, but I’ll find them if they are, and when I do, it won’t be pretty.”

There was a brief silence. Pete pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket; he looked up at Finn, then gave his attention to the task of removing the plastic wrapping from the box of Horizons. Stack didn’t say a word, just looked between Pete and Finn with a grim expression on his face.

“Right.” Finn broke the silence. “Let’s hope you’re wrong, then.”

Rocky chuckled. “I’m hardly ever wrong, Finn.” He narrowed his eyes. “You know that.”

And that’s what I’m afraid of.

He plastered on a bland expression and looked back to the laptop.

Pete stood and indicated the cigarettes. “I’m going out for a smoke.”

Rocky grunted his permission. Once Pete left, the door closing behind him, Finn focused on his brother.

“So back to the job,” Finn said, keeping his tone businesslike. “Where are you meeting the truck, and where are you taking the load?”

“Alexandria—”

Stack finally spoke, cutting in over Rocky. “You don’t need to know that information. The fewer people who know the specific details, the better.”

Damn, Finn thought he’d finally broken Rocky, gotten him to start sharing. He didn’t think he’d have Stack to contend with. Finn looked at Stack. His brows were drawn as he studied Finn, and if his crossed arms were any indication, he wasn’t going to change his mind and suddenly start spouting details of the shipment and delivery. Finn looked back to Rocky, who was now leaning forward in the chair, his cold eyes focused on Finn.

“Stack’s right. If there was any reason to tell you, I’d give you the details, but as it is, all I need from you is one thing, and one thing only. One. Thing. Only.” Rocky slapped the desktop with his palm, punctuating each of his words, the sound loud in the enclosed office. “I need you to make sure things run smoothly here, and by smoothly, I mean the whole place needs to run like fucking clockwork. We can’t afford any fuckups like the incident last week.”

There’d been an altercation in the car park. An unhappy customer whose Harley was in for service accused the mechanic of not looking after the bike while it spent time in the shop. He claimed the carelessness of the operation resulted in scratches on the bodywork and therefore refused to pay his bill. Things escalated as he demanded compensation.

Ginger was tough at first—she was used to dealing with arseholes—but she got scared when things were obviously getting out of hand. Blue stepped in to protect his sister, and things went downhill from there. Pushing and shoving, and a yelling match ensued. Blue backed the guy out of the small office and picked up a wrench as they made their way through the workshop. The guy eventually left, but not before threatening to call the cops, not to mention he didn’t settle his bill. Rocky was pissed off, but he had plans to recover the money from the guy, if not more. There was no way he would let anyone get away with anything against him, the business, or the club.

“And how the hell do you expect me to stop something like that happening? You’re taking Blue and Stack with you, and Lucky.”

Rocky shrugged. “I’ll leave Peter with you.”

Finn thought about his jumpy-looking friend. With his reed-thin body and sunken eyes, Pete hardly appeared in a fit state to take on anybody. Finn would just have to hope there would be no need for physical enforcement. A vision of Mitch filled his thoughts. He’d have Mitch here, all six-plus feet of muscle, and suddenly with that thought, he felt a lot better.

A short while later, Rocky and Stack took their leave, and Finn spent a couple of hours sifting through invoices and spreadsheets. Once again he was astounded at how well the business was performing, yet Rocky still felt the need to supplement a perfectly healthy income with ill-gotten gains. Once he was done for the day, he logged out of all his systems and shut down the laptop. He hated being here in the office, so always looked forward to the end of the day. When he walked out of the building and saw Mitch, it gave him even more reason to celebrate the trip home, and he couldn’t help the excitement that pooled in his belly.

Mitch finished the conversation he was having with Pete and met him at the car with a huge smile on his face, a smile Finn was sure mirrored his own.