Ghost took hold of her hand and led her inside the gate with the rest of his brothers. They walked across the lot and into the warehouse.
Jessie’s eyes immediately glanced around, taking in the big space with its high ceilings and concrete floor revealed in the dim light that appeared to come only from the few skylights high up in the metal roof.
There were a group of more men waiting in a half circle, their arms all folded across their chests, and their stances wide, giving them a very intimidating look.
Shades, being the VP, took charge for the Evil Dead, moving to stand in front of the rest of his men, taking up the same posture as the DKs. His eyes moved over the line of men, past the man with the President’s patch, past the man with the VP patch, to land on another man standing to his right. He was younger than both the President and VP, and he was much better looking.
Shades lifted his chin to the man.
“Rusty.”
The man lifted his chin in response.
“Shades.”
Then Shades eyes moved back to the President.
“Growler.”
The President, whom Shades had identified as Growler, unfolded his arms and stepped forward.
“You had some information for us.”
Shades nodded once. “We do. First we make a deal.”
“First we hear what the bitch has to say,” Growler countered.
Shades shook his head. “You hear me out first.”
Growler stared him down, finally relenting.
“All right. Fucking talk. And it better be something I want to hear.”
“You will,” Shades assured him. “It’ll benefit both our clubs.”
“Don’t much give a shit if anything benefits your club.”
A slight grin pulled at the corner of Shades’ mouth. “Understood.”
“Well?” Growler’s brow lifted. “You got somethin’ to say, get to it.”
“We’ve got some information for you. Information that you’ll find very valuable.”
“That remains to be seen,” the man countered.
“In exchange for this information, you and I work out an arrangement where both our clubs make an alliance for one purpose and one purpose only. Doesn’t affect anything we got now. We keep our own territories, nothing changes.”
The President let out a long-suffering breath. “And what exactly is the purpose of this alliance you’re askin’ for?”
“To keep the Death Heads from pushing into the Gulf Coast. They want Georgia, and they want Alabama. And they’ve got a plan for getting both. You’re up first on their list. We’re next. The plan to take you down is already in motion.”
He lifted a brow with a doubtful expression. “Take us down? Really? And what’s this fucking plan?”
Shades lifted his chin to the members standing behind the President of the DKs. “These your most trusted guys? ‘Cause you’ve got a rat.”
His VP’s arms came unfolded. “Who the hell are you to come in here and tell us our fucking business?”
Jessie studied the man. His face was hard and spoke of years of callous violence and disregard for anything that threatened his club. His long scraggly hair and beard were both solid gray. He wore small wire-rimmed glasses on his long thin nose and when he spoke, he revealed teeth yellowed with age.