Isaac

 

I flexed my arms and shoved my fists in my pockets. TJ and Nick were milling around in the bar, waiting for a call from the Russians. The plan was that we were supposed to meet in the desert outside of town. We’d bring the funds and do a trade. This was the way we’d done business with them for years, but for some reason, I was nervous. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was bound to go wrong. I kept imagining the cops showing up, or the Russians pulling AK-47s out from beneath their feet and shooting at us until we were bloody and lying on the ground.

 

“Shit,” I muttered. “I’m so fucking tense!”

 

Nick walked over to me and cuffed me on the shoulder. “This is a big deal, boss,” he said with a grin. “We’re finally getting back on the map. This is the biggest order that we’ve ever put in, and you know it.”

 

I shook my head. “It don’t feel right,” I said. “I mean, it feels like someone’s trying to fuck us. You know anything about that?” I glanced at him, suddenly suspicious. I didn’t know where this doubt was coming from; I’d always trusted my guys. But this was some new, next-level shit in terms of paranoia and job security. If we got caught, this would be the end of Jungle’s Thorns for a few years. Prison would be hard on us, and the club probably wouldn’t survive. Gunrunners didn’t tend to do well in prison; they were basically only a step above child molesters and rapists. We were the bad guys funding gang warfare, and it was a safe bet to say society didn’t exactly look on that lightly.

 

I couldn’t get over my conversation with Stephanie up at the Hollywood sign. Things had been different between us. Away from our separate MCs, she had been a different person. For a moment or two, I’d actually thought that we could have a civil conversation. I’d thought that we could maybe get somewhere, like real people.

 

“Boss,” Nick said. He jabbed me in the ribs. “Here comes trouble.”

 

I clenched my jaw as I saw the men walking into the warehouse. They were all short and squat with bulky frames and leather jackets. Not bikers, Russians.

 

“Hey,” I greeted our arms dealers in a low voice. I glanced around. Panic sounded in my head and my belly. This wasn’t right; they weren’t supposed to be here. They weren’t ever supposed to come into our property like this. It was too dangerous. What the fuck was going on?”

 

“Hello,” one of the Russians, Sergey, greeted me. “I need to talk to you.”

 

“Now isn’t a good time,” I said sharply. “We’re meeting on Saturday. Stick to that, will you?”

 

The Russian threw his head back and laughed. His mouth was filled with yellow teeth and the glimmer of gold crowns. I shuddered. “No,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I heard you may not be there. I wanted to make sure we’d get our money.”

 

Bracing my feet apart and staring at him, I tried to figure out what was going on. “That’s bullshit,” I scoffed. “This is the biggest deal that we’ve made to date. Of course we’re gonna fucking be there. What the hell is your problem?”

 

Sergey shook his head. “You can’t lie to me, Isaac,” he said with a nasty smile. “I have brought men to argue my case.”

 

My stomach knotted in on itself as the burly men stepped up to Sergey’s side. He was the shortest of the bunch, barely coming up to their shoulders. They glanced around, not nervously, but as if checking the place out for future use. I didn’t like that. Not at all.

 

“You’d better clue me in,” I hissed, stepping closer and resting a hand on the holster of my gun. “I don’t like surprise visits like this. None of the guys do. It’s strictly against policy.”

 

Sergey smiled “We hate to make you uncomfortable,” he said. “We just need to make sure you’re going to show up.” I watched with a sickening feeling in my stomach as his men stepped forward and grabbed TJ, pulling him to the side of the room. “This little trade off will ensure your arrival and the money, no?”

 

“Let him go,” I growled. TJ was looking at me with a practiced and stoic look on his face but deep down, I could tell he was panicking. A week with the Russians could mean a death sentence if they got drunk or angry or just plain bored. I thought that by the time I saw TJ again, he might be cut to pieces.

 

“No,” Sergey said. He smiled and stuck his arm out, smacking TJ hard in the face. “This will ensure that you arrive on Saturday.”

 

“We need to meet before then,” I growled. “You let him go or we’ll have to have a serious talk about the future of our relationship.”

 

Sergey shrugged. “I don’t care about the future,” he said. “I care about getting my money when I deserve to get my money, you pig. Don’t you understand that?”

 

I sighed. “Nick,” I called loudly. “Come over here!” When he didn’t reply, I felt anger blossom inside of me. “Get your ass over here!”

 

Nick trotted up, managing to somehow look both scared and oblivious. “What is it?”

 

I glared at him. I loved my guys, but sometimes they could be incredibly fucking stupid. “Do you know anything about this? Who the fuck told Sergey that we might not be there on Saturday?”

 

Nick frowned. “I don’t know,” he said. “Hey, why are they holding TJ like that?”

 

“They’re going to keep him fucking hostage unless we think of something,” I hissed sharply. “Can you fucking help with this? Go get the cash box,” I added, trying to make sure that Sergey wouldn’t hear me. “We can’t let them take him.”

 

TJ was my best man, my best fighter, and one of the smartest guys in the club. I couldn’t stand for them to take him. As much as I hated it, another idea popped into my head as I watched Nick trot off.

 

“Hey,” I said to Sergey, holding up my hands. “I have another idea, okay?”

 

Sergey grinned. He jabbed TJ in the gut until he was doubled over in pain. I tried not to wince as I looked on. “I don’t care,” he said with a grin. “We’re taking this one. That’s that.”

 

“What if I paid you some cash now, and gave you another man?” I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible but inside, I felt like I was pleading for my own life. “I’ve got another guy who would be a better companion. And as a bonus, he’s a great mechanic. Put him to work fixing all of your shit up, okay?”

 

Sergey smirked. “Like our shit is broken? Are you saying we run a shoddy business?”

 

I was stalling but I prayed he wouldn’t figure that out. “Nick!” I yelled loudly. “Go get Kyle!” I grinned unpleasantly to myself. Trading Kyle for TJ wasn’t ideal, but it was probably the best chance I was going to get. Plus, I was angry beyond words with Kyle and this would be a suitable punishment. A few days with the Russians, maybe a broken finger or two. He’d be fine. I just couldn’t let them take my best man.

 

“Hey,” I said, when Nick approached with Kyle in tow. As usual, Kyle was grinning like an idiot and swaggering around like he owned the place. He had grease all over his hands and on his forehead from wiping his blond hair back out of his face. When he saw the Russians, his grin slowly faded into a look of confusion.

 

“What’s this?” Kyle said. He swallowed hard and I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “What the fuck is going on?”

 

“Release him,” I said to Sergey. To my immense relief, he dropped TJ to the ground. TJ stood up and walked over. I could see that he was breathing hard with gratitude. “Here,” I said, shoving Kyle forward. “Take him. He’s young, he can work for you for free. And here’s five thousand dollars as a retainer,” I said. “You get the rest of the money on Saturday, when we get the guns. Deal?”

 

Sergey smirked. “This one is smart. He knows what to do.” He wrapped his fingers around the back of Kyle’s neck and squeezed. Kyle shot me a glare and I glared right back. If you hadn’t fucked off and acted like such a dumb shit, this never would have happened, I thought angrily. You deserve every single bit of this.

 

Nick handed Sergey an envelope of cash, which he counted before tucking it inside of his sharkskin jacket. “We see you Saturday,” Sergey said gruffly. “Do not be late.”

 

“Oh, we won’t,” I said, staring hard at him. “We’ll be right on time.”