Chapter Fifteen
Rebel cast his gaze around the empty clubhouse—his kingdom as he privately called it—and smirked. Life as a king was pretty fuckin’ sweet. It wasn’t that he could do no wrong, but it was pretty damned close.
These men, these brothers of his, possessed a strong sense of loyalty that bordered on blindness. For nearly a year he and Savage had been peddling drugs and not a single member of his club was in the know. Not one. Not an inkling that something was wrong. They followed him like sheep, baa-ing and doing his bidding.
Exactly what he needed when the time came to bring more of them into his little side business which was rapidly growing into a large scale side business.
He glanced at his watch. Where the fuck was Savage? His second in command was supposed to be there fifteen minutes ago and the man was punctual to a fault.
Well, he had five minutes until Rebel—
The door swung open and Savage entered, wrestling another man through the door. The guy was bone-thin with the glazed eyes of the fully baked and he looked like he’d gone a few rounds with Savage and hadn’t faired too well.
“What the fuck is this, Savage?” Rebel pulled a package of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one up. He suffered from a constant low level of agitation tamed only by the flow of nicotine in his bloodstream. As he inhaled and let the drug work its magic, he kept his gaze on the man who Savage shoved into a chair.
Despite his black eye, bloodied lip and lolling head, the man appeared to be feeling no pain. Rebel knew a good customer when he saw one. Question was, what did Savage have against the junkie.
“Not what, Pres, but who. This here is Robbie. Robbie has one purpose in life—fill his veins with heroin as often as possible. Ain’t that right, Robbie?” Savage asked. There was no response so he smacked the scrawny man on the back of his head. “I asked you a question, junkie.”
Still no answer, so Savage shrugged.
“Savage, we’ve got shit to do. We don’t have time for games. Get to the point.” He stared at the smoke curling from his half-smoked cigarette. In some ways, he could sympathize with the man’s addiction.
“This ain’t no fuckin’ game, Pres. We’ve got a problem.”
Rebel raised an eyebrow. “And that would be?” He loved Savage like a son but the man could be a fuckin’ drama queen at times. “Get to the point.”
“Robbie’s been running his mouth on the streets. Talking about the No Prisoners selling his favorite shit.”
Rebel resisted the urge to roll his eyes and sucked in more smoke. “What, did you expect all these users to keep their traps shut? Of course they’re talking, Savage. That’s how we get more business. What the fuck’s your problem?”
Savage’s expression turned cold. He did deadly intent better than anyone Rebel had met. “Robbie is a good friend of Lucky.”
The cigarette hung limply between his fingers as Savage’s words penetrated Rebel’s consciousness. Friend of Lucky. Friend of Lucky…
His eyes met Savage’s icy stare and his VP nodded, confirming his worst fears. Lucky knew. Lucky was the one club member Rebel had been certain would not under any circumstances get on board with selling drugs. His junkie whore of a little sister hadn’t known when to quit and sent herself straight into the afterlife when she was still a teenager. Lucky was a rabid anti-drug crusader.
A searing pain hit his fingers. “Shit!” he yelled, dropping the offending cigarette stub and shaking out his burned finger. How long had he stood there staring at Savage?
“Shit!” he screamed louder this time. “He knows?” Rebel rushed forward and grabbed Robbie by the front of his filthy shirt. His head lolled and Rebel gave him a severe shake. “You’re sure he fucking knows?”
Robbie smiled and laughed, the sound giddy, almost euphoric. “He knows. We talk about it all the time. You gonna give me some more?” He swung his gaze to Savage. “He said if I talked to you he’d give me some free samples.”
“Fuck.” Rebel released him and he landed in the chair with a thud. With a roar of frustration, Rebel paced the room and dug another cigarette out of his pocket. This time the sweet hit of nicotine did nothing to calm the beast rising within him.
“Get him the fuck out of here, Savage. I need to think, process.” In a rush of fury, he kicked over a barstool sending shards of wood flying through the air. “Any idea how long? Has he told anyone else?”
Savage shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s too fucking high to remember much. I’ll interrogate him properly after he comes down. I have a feeling with the proper motivation and just ten minutes without a hit he’ll be spilling his guts.”
Rebel nodded. “Good, that’s good.” He ran a hand across his scalp.
“This may not be as bad as you think, Pres,” Savage said. He walked behind the bar and grabbed a bottle off the shelf. After filling two glasses he handed one off to Rebel. It would take a lot more than one drink to deal with this news.
“How so? You think there’s a chance in hell Lucky won’t go after us for this?” He savored the welcome burn of booze hitting his system.
“There’s Kori.”
Rebel stopped dead in his tracks.
Kori.
Savage was right. There was Kori. Gears started turning in his head, clunking into place and activating a plan. It hadn’t been long, but Lucky appeared uncharacteristically drawn to Kori. Hell, he’d been with her for a few weeks now which in and of itself was unexpected Lucky behavior. In Rebel’s experience, men who’d been around as much as Lucky tended to never date much. They went from bed hopping to wedded bliss. Or at least the illusion of marital ecstasy.
A quick shudder ran through him. Let the others attempt monogamy. Not for him, and he’d never thought for Lucky, but apparently, all it took was one good pussy to bring a man down.
The fact that the pussy in question belonged to his daughter was icing on the cake. “I can use this. We can use this,” Rebel said.
Savage nodded. The evil grin he did so well curved his mouth.
“You want her, don’t you?” Rebel studied his VP’s face.
“I do.”
“Hmm. Then I think you should have her.” He tossed the smoldering butt to the floor and ground it under his booted heel.
“What do you have in mind?” Savage asked, his eyes shining with excitement and if Rebel wasn’t mistaken, he was hiding a hard-on behind his jeans.
“Not sure yet. Give me a day to work it out. I’ll come up with a plan to get us both what we want. You’ll have Kori, and Lucky won’t be a problem any longer.”
“Sure thing, boss. What do you want me to do with him?” Savage nodded in the direction of Robbie who’d fallen fast asleep with his face on the table.
“Keep him in the shed. Find out what he knows. Use whatever means necessary, but keep him alive for now.” He could be useful over the next few days.
“Will do,” Savage said. “Come on, sleeping beauty. Up you go.” With his heavy boot, Savage kicked Robbie’s leg.
He came awake with a start and a grunt of pain.
“Get the fuck up.” Savage yanked him to a stand and practically dragged him out the door.
Alone, Rebel withdrew his pack of smokes and lit another, ideas swirling in his brain. How exactly could he use Kori’s relationship with Lucky to turn the tables in his favor? A tiny voice in the back recesses of his mind, a voice he tended to ignore, asked if he was really planning to throw his daughter to the wolves.
For once, he let the voice be heard and contemplated the question. Was he capable of taking his new relationship with Kori and destroying it with one swipe?
A lot of money was at stake. Money Rebel had always dreamed of but never quite managed to acquire. He’d missed the first twenty-seven years of Kori’s life and neither of them seemed to suffer for it. What the hell did it matter if he never formed a relationship with her at this point? She was a fuckin’ adult.
And maybe she’d surprise him and end up being more like her old man than he anticipated. Maybe she’d see the earning potential and drop Lucky like a bad habit.
Rebel smiled.
Who was he kidding, really? It was a lot of fuckin’ money.
“Answer’s easy,” he said out loud with a chuckle. “Fuck yeah, I’m willing to use my daughter to get my way.”