Burn: Outlaw Romance (Hotter Than Hell Book 3) (5 page)

Some of these men won’t like it. I will set this club on a better path, though.

To gain everyone’s attention, I stand and gaze around the room. Slowly, the talking dies down. I pause a bit longer before speaking. “We have a lot to discuss,” I finally say. “I’ll give you the rundown of a few changes that start immediately.” Skull, Vamp, Coke, and Johns are on board with me, so at least I have their backing. “After you hear the new rules, those who want the hell out can leave. If you go, you will remove your colors and no longer be a Desert Crow. Or be welcomed back. Your decision to leave is final.” I remain standing. “All members take a seat.” Half the men nod, several keep their scowling faces on me without blinking, and several look away. Each man takes a seat, though. I need to get the first item out in the open and get rid of a few undecideds before I lay all my cards on the table. “My challenge to Fox was a long time coming. I put up with shit I’m not proud of. Taking the child, Kiley, was the last straw. No one in this room should hold with a child molester, and Fox planned to sell her to the highest bidding fucking cho-mo he could find.” I see movement in the corner where the women are and notice Kiley’s mother, Pauline, take a step away from the women. She’s glaring at me.

Tough shit.

“I had to ask for help to rescue Kiley and now our club owes a debt,” I continue as I give a hard stare-down to some of the angry eyes cast my way. They don’t need to know the entire story, but they need to know the who. “Moon’s organization helped me.”

The silence that follows this statement lasts all of five seconds. Oho, who has remained fairly quiet, leaps to his feet. “That’s fuckin’ bullshit. I don’t owe no debt to some wetback spics.” Grumbles in the room increase while Oho clenches and unclenches his fists. His face and bald head are bright red.

I keep calm on the outside. “You’re right, Oho, you don’t owe the debt, the club does. The fucking door is waiting for you. And if some small piece of lint in your head urges you to stick around, I would suggest you disregard it.” I finger the knife sheath at my hip.

Oho shoves the table in front of him forward and it crashes on its side. Johns and Vampire make a grab for him. I strategically placed those who are loyal to me in between those I question. I knew Oho was the biggest threat. Johns and Vampire are ready for his bullshit. They slam him face first to the floor. He continues cussing until he runs out of steam. I nod at Johns and Vampire when he stops fighting and they lift him up. There’s blood running down his face.

“Lay down your colors,” I tell him.

Oho stares around the circle at the other members. “You really takin’ this shit? Next thing you know, he’ll be dealing with niggers.”

I knew this would be ugly. I look Oho straight in the eyes and try to keep my temper in check. “You’re wrong about that,” I tell him. “I won’t be dealing with the likes of you. Anyone who can help pull this club out of the pile of dog shit it’s been rolling in has a chance. I don’t give a fuck what color their skin is. You would have killed that baby’s aunt and allowed Kiley to go to a cho-mo. The only nigger I’m looking at is you and that includes anyone who wants to side with you.”

I look around again. “If you do, get the fuck out now.” All attention is back on me. “If you plan to stay, you need to know a few facts about exactly who we are. It’s time we begin living up to our name.” I take my cut off and turn it around so everyone sees the emblem. “We’re Crows—a tight-knit family. Loyal. We protect our territory. Like a crow, we’re fucking smart and use whatever tool at hand makes life easier. We hold a grudge and never forget a face. Desert crows are scrappier than most. They… we, need to be in order to live in this environment. This club has forgotten everything our name stands for. It’s our legacy and we need to take it back. Now ask yourself what our colors stand for because every fucking crow I’ve ever seen in my life is black. You want to be a racist, fine, but you sure as hell better pick a name for your club other than Desert Crows. I don’t give a fuck what color a crow is. I want to be proud wearing these colors and I want to be a part of a club with the same fucking values as our namesake.” The vest rests against my chest and I strike my palm against it. “You want to be a bigoted SOB, fine, become a pussy-ass white dove for all I care.”

There it is… my Hail Mary. I shrug back into my vest. It’s time to see how the dust settles.

Without looking at me, one of the newer members, Candy, with a fucking swastika tattooed on his bare scalp, removes his cut and rests it on the table. He walks over to Oho and waits. Oho removes his vest and tosses it to the floor before spitting on it. He shoves Vampire aside and the two men walk out. Vampire follows and watches them through the open door. All the brothers are on their feet by this time. I take my seat again and wait for everyone but Vampire to do the same. With a nod from me, he knows to stay where he is and guard the door.

My eyes travel the room while I talk. “Each man here served time. Inside, you lived by those fucked up race rules because you had no choice. We are no longer in the hellhole they call state prison and by-damned we’re going to stop acting like it. Fox kept us isolated because he never wanted anyone thinking past survival. You are no longer under Fox or his henchmen’s thumb. I won’t live by or lead by those rules.”

I inhale deeply and gather myself again. My heart is pounding against my chest like I’ve run for miles. “That doesn’t mean we’re turning pussy-whipped. We have a chance to build this club into something that works for everyone. Meth and other illegal drugs are not the answer.” I pause a moment to let that sink in. The women begin muttering quietly and Pauline looks over her shoulder at them with what I assume is an,
I told you so
expression. I ignore her and continue. “No one here is an idiot. You know Fox was fucking you over with his own agenda. Some of you have old ladies and families. Are they better off since leaving prison?” I pound my fist on the table in frustration over how we’ve lived. “I sure as fuck am not. And I’m not proud of some of the shit I’ve done.” My hand goes flat as I try to reel in my emotions. “We may still be required to do shit we aren’t proud of, but I say we take a vote on the big items and stop having one person make decisions for us while treating us like a bunch of fucked up shitheads. We need to clean this mess up. It’s time for you to make a choice. It’s the last chance you’ll have…” I wave toward the front door, “to walk safely away with no repercussions.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to do?” All heads turn to Pauline. The guys refer to her as
Powder
because she’ll do anything for a hit of meth. She may have been pretty at one time, but drugs have turned her into a skeletal caricature of a woman. The sores covering her arms and face kept me away from what’s between her legs and I never understood why any of the men took what she offered. If it wasn’t for her treatment of Kiley, I might feel sorry for her.

I push back from the table a bit and turn my full attention to the women. “Most of you are addicts.” That’s an understatement because I’d bet my ass, except for Red, they all are. “That won’t work here anymore. You get clean or get out.” The next part is rough but the truth. “Club whores are a dime a dozen. If you clean up and want to keep spreading your legs, that’s fine, you have a place to do it within this club.”

When I finish laying out these rules, Pauline explodes. Red tries to grab her as she runs toward me with fists flying. I stand and bring my palm up, striking her chest dead center and shoving her backward as hard as I can. With all the bad shit I’ve done, hitting a woman wasn’t on the list until now. Pauline flies back and lands on her ass. She wraps her arms across her chest while trying to catch her breath. “That was for Kiley,” I grind out. “Any mother who would stand by and watch her child sold isn’t welcome here. Pick your sorry ass up and get the fuck out.”

She starts muttering as she rolls to her knees. I only catch part of what she says, but it’s enough to make me cross the several feet separating us and grab her by a chunk of hair. I lift her head, painfully arching her neck back. “What did you say?”

She’s furious, her eyes filled with hatred. Fear too, which shouldn’t satisfy me as much as it does. She’s stupid to challenge me right now. “You don’t know shit. Fox hid the money and you have no idea where. Fuck you.” She tries to scramble away, but I hold on.

We all knew there was money, most likely a shitload. Very slowly, I slip my knife from its sheath. I release Pauline’s hair and place my arm around her throat, pulling her up from the floor with her back to me. I lift the knife and she starts screaming, making a high-pitched animal-type sound.

“Shh,” I tell her and tighten my hold to keep her from wiggling free. She makes a gargling sound as she struggles for air. “You can start talking or I can start by removing your ear.” I loosen my hold just enough for her to breathe and then I touch the tip of the knife to her skin. She freezes. “Count of three and the bottom half comes off.” The last thing I planned to do was mess with one of the women. I’m making my stand, though, and each man and woman here needs to know I’m not fucking around.

“No need to cut her. I know where it is,” Red says as she steps forward.

I lift my eyes from Pauline. Red appears worried and I never realized how soft-hearted she was. “Good, if she doesn’t talk, I’ll kill her and can get what I need from you.” Will I? It’s easy to say and quite another thing to follow through on. I’m not Fox. Pauline continues crying. I keep my eyes on Red. “One.”

“You asshole,” Pauline says between sobs. “In his room, he hides it under the boards below the window.”

I ease back the knife and glance at Skull. “Go check the room.” I toss Pauline aside and she goes to her knees. I walk back to the table and glance at the men. They appear angry. I doubt it’s over the fact I threatened to kill Pauline. More likely it’s that at least two of the women were in on Fox’s stash of money and we weren’t. Typical Fox. Too bad I already killed the prick.

A few minutes later, Skull comes back carrying a large leather saddlebag. He drops it on the table. I unbuckle it and empty the contents.

Fuck me.

Bundles of hundred dollar bills scatter. I remove a rubber band and count one bundle. “Ten thousand,” I say aloud when I’m finished. I stack the bundles on the table. There are thirty-two total. Coke whistles.

“That’s our money,” says AJ, one of the men who had Fox’s back. I’m surprised he didn’t leave with Oho. He’s in his thirties, bushy beard, bald head, and green eyes. He’s not the biggest guy we have, but no one would call him small. He’s quiet and has an old lady, and I often wondered what the hell he’s doing here. He followed Fox’s dictates without grumbling. Questioning Fox got you dead real quick and each man here knew it. Didn’t mean you couldn’t tell when someone didn’t like something. AJ was different. He did what Fox asked with more of a blank look than anything else.

I stare at AJ for a moment before answering. He doesn’t shift his eyes away like he did earlier. “It’s club money. Who the hell knows what Fox planned to do with it. The Crows have existed on selling drugs for too long. When you have no business to launder the money, that money is safer in bags.” I know I’m defending Fox in a way, but I have a point to make. “This is only one of the problems I want brought to the table.”

I need to take care of Pauline before we finish this conversation. “Skull, take Pauline to the small room.” It’s little more than a large closet with a lock on the outside of the door.

“Fuck you,” Pauline screams as Skull makes a grab for her.

“I’ll have one of the men give you a ride to the Valley when our meeting is over. If you wanna fight it, your ass can go out on the highway right now. You’re done here. If you go to the cops, you’re dead. This is the only free pass you’ll get from this club.” I notice two of the women crying. Red has her arms around them. The other woman, who answers to Tramp, is the youngest. The drugs haven’t fucked up her looks too badly yet. Her hair is stringy and unwashed, and her face thin, but it’s nothing like Pauline’s. Her brown eyes hold intelligence when she isn’t high. I’ve tapped her more than once. She’s loud when she comes and disappears quickly when I’m finished. She’s not a clinger and that’s why I’ve gone back for more. Maybe she’ll have a chance. “If you’re leaving with Pauline, follow her and Skull to the small room. This part of the meeting is no longer your concern.”

Red whispers to the two women she’s holding. They both shake their heads. I glance at Tramp and she shakes her head too. The women live in an old trailer behind the clubhouse. The fucking trailer is a worse place to live than the clubhouse—hotter in the summer and colder in the winter. They need better accommodations. I tuck this thought away for later. Too much shit to handle right now. We’ll see how the women come through withdrawals before tackling smaller problems.

Skull hauls Pauline over his shoulder. She screams the entire way to the small room. When they’re out of sight, I lay down my plans. “Peach City has little to offer the four-wheeler and sand buggy enthusiasts who flock to the desert around here. They camp with their families and friends and bring a heavy need for gas and supplies. They tote their shit in, drive south to the reservation or north to Payson for those supplies. The club owns a chunk of property along the highway. Won’t be cheap to get fuel tanks installed but a small store with essentials would be a good start. We have enough contractors in this room to make it happen within a few months.” Up until today that’s how I earned my living. “We also have bike mechanics. Four-wheelers and buggies aren’t much different from motorcycles. When they break down, we can make money on repairs. I say we pull this club out of the dark side and get our shit together. I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m tired of working for the man, driving to the Valley or Payson to do it, and making just enough money to put a roof over my head. Jobs aren’t easy to come by for felons. I say we take it into our own hands.”