Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Chef, our resident bartender, puts down an opened beer bottle next to Eagle-eye, then finds a seat.
"Okay, fuckers, listen up! Church is in session!" Eagle-eye's gravelly voice echoes off the high ceiling, and gradually the clink of beer bottles and the clack of billiard balls dies out as everyone finds a spot and focuses.
From the outside, a lot of people think we’re a chaotic mess. That we’re all a fucked up bunch of assholes with no respect for law or authority who spend their lives drinking, fucking and fighting. They’re only partly right. It’s not a mess, it’s controlled chaos. Successful MCs like the Eagles get to where they are because they don’t just recruit every idiot who wants an excuse to hurt and steal. They collect people like me. The ones who crave camaraderie and structure, but who would rather put a bullet in our skulls than pledge their loyalty to anything, king or country, without knowing the loyalty goes both ways.
We don’t follow Eagle-eye because he’s got a patch that says ‘president’. We follow him because he’d never ask anything from us that he hasn’t given himself. So when he calls us to Church, we listen the fuck up. Every blooded member who’s able to attend is expected to be here, and no one else. It's when decisions that affect the whole club are made, and when threats are addressed.
Kozlov is officially a threat.
"I know you’re all aware of the issues on our borders, but for those who’ve been under a rock, here’s the long and short of it. Alexander Kozlov is a wannabe mob boss with a smooth mouth and enough money to throw around to build a bit of support. He’s been in the area for about five years, but only really started moving in the last year or so. When we first noticed trouble, I tried to call a meeting like a civilized motherfucker, but he’s too chickenshit to meet.” He picks up the beer and takes a drag from it.
"So what’s his plan?" Diesel, who's sitting on the back of one of the couches, speaks up. “Nibble at our ankles until we surrender?"
Eagle-eye nods. "Good question. It’s well known that we’ve got our rules, but that I don’t give a fuck how other people run their outfits so long as they stay in their lanes. But he’s squeezing the Ditch, and that’s too close for comfort. We need that space to keep South Side clean for our own fucking people. Kozlov doesn’t like to get his own hands dirty, but he’s good at convincing other people to do his dirty work. At this point he has the ears of enough thugs on the ground to be a threat. I’ve had Piston, Beast and Zero on point for this and they’ve talked to multiple businesses who’ve been pressured to support Kozlov.”
“Where’s Piston?” Lightening calls out. A few guys nod.
“He’s with their girl because yesterday she was targeted by Bloodmoney.” Eagle-eye pauses. "Who are working for… can we guess it?”
“Kozlov!” King calls out, earning a laugh from the crowd.
Our girl.
I cut a glance over to Zero who is doing the same back at me. Feels right. At this point, no one in the club raises a fucking eyebrow at the idea of multiple members connecting with a single girl, but I still don't know that I ever imagined that I'd be one of them. Of course, if I gotta share her with anyone, there's no one fucking better than Piston and Zero.
Preacher raises a hand. “We hitting back?”
“Nah, I thought I’d let it slide this time. Of course we’re fucking hitting back,” Eagle-eye roars.
The room cheers.
King puts his fingers to his lips and whistles. Everyone quiets down. “We happen to know where Kozlov’s going to be tomorrow. The local business association holds an annual gala at the Woodley Grand Hotel. It’s nothing new. Seats at the dinner cost a whack, and then a bunch of businesses pitch in with free shit and their services to auction off. The proceeds go to local charities. They usually pull in a couple hundred grand, but this year we’ve been told most of it’s going straight into Kozlov’s pockets and anyone who doesn’t agree, will find themselves the target of his thugs.”
"So what are we gonna do?" Viking asks, shirtless as always. He takes a swig from his beer. “Outbid him?”
Nitro shrugs. “Kidnap him on the way? Force a meeting?”
I stand. “I think that whatever we do, we need to do it soon. He’s already got too much influence and he’s happy to draw blood. Protection rackets, pushing our borders, spreading rumors about us being too distracted to deal with him. He’s not gonna stop being a threat until we get rid of him.” And just as important, to me at least, Sandra isn’t safe where she is so long as Kozlov is running free.