“I’ll be there to get you after work tomorrow. Hawk will drop you off in the morning.”
“Mmhmm.” Her eyelids fluttered open and he leaned down to deliver a kiss. Putting his game face on, he grabbed his cut off the chair and shrugged it on as he walked into the living room. He answered the door when Hawk knocked a few minutes later.
“Hey, man, thanks for coming by.”
“No problem.”
“Juliette’s passed out. I want you to keep a close eye on her and make sure the prospects post themselves in the coffee shop across from the library. Anyone even halfway suspicious enters the place and I want them there.”
“You got it.”
“Good, now keep your charm to yourself and keep my old lady safe.”
“I can only promise one of those things.” Hawk grinned rakishly and Shooter scowled.
“Better make it two, pretty boy.” Clapping his shoulder, he moved past him out of the house. He’d arranged a meeting with Specs and Gadget at the club. Tonight they’d show Stant he wasn’t the only one with power.
* * * * *
“Tell me what you got. I want this fucker shitting himself when the morning comes.” Shooter slammed the meeting room door behind him, walked over to the table, and sank into the seat beside Moose.
“We have a neatly bundled list of clients who will not want to be identified, services rendered and questionable shipments. A lot of people have been paid to look the other way. We put out some feelers. Turns out they tried to talk the Crazy Eights into a deal not too long ago.”
“What, they want to branch out?” Shooter asked, scowling.
“It looks like it. They stand to make a lot of money. If they take over the strip clubs they’d dominate,” Gadget said.
“They’ll move in on our territory over our dead bodies,” Shooter said.
“They must realize it. I think that’s why they were doing it slowly, claiming one club at a time and trying to make nice with the M.C.s. The Crazy Eights hate flesh peddlers so they turned them down flat. A lot of others aren’t so particular as long as you’re paying green,” Specs said.
“This problem is a lot bigger than I ever anticipated.” Shooter shook his head. “We need to keep Prez in the loop on this one.”
“Done. How do you want to handle this?” Specs asked.
“We send Stant the information, let him know if he doesn’t back off that’ll be in an email to every prominent paper by the end of the night.”
Moose frowned. “What the hell is that going to do?”
“Push him over the edge.” Shooter smirked. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. This can only end with him in jail or six-feet deep.”
“You got a preference? Cause one is really easy to accomplish without all this,” Moose said.
“I want that bitch’s tower to crumble. I owe Juliette his destruction.”
“Nothing says I love you like the ruin of an ex,” Moose muttered.
“In this case, yes.” Shooter inclined his head.
“Shit. You didn’t deny it.” Gadget pointed toward him.
“What?” Shooter frowned.
“That you love her.” Specs stared at him like he’d grown a second head.
“I never said I didn’t. Keep it to yourself for now. I haven’t gotten a chance to tell her. Kind of hard when the bottom keeps falling out from beneath us.?
? He shifted in his chair, glancing down. “Let’s just stay focused. Specs, Gadget, dump the stick on his front porch and send out the emails. I want him to sweat it out, try to make amends and realize in the morning how fucked he is.”