Zero Tolerance (Lost Kings MC 12)

“Funny you think I’d ask your permission for anything. But especially anything related to Lilly. She can make up her own damn mind.”

He glares at me and I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t have all day, old man.”

“What do you want?” Without taking his eyes off me, he sits, and I circle around to the other side of the desk and drop down into his chair.

Out of respect for Lilly, I didn’t wear my cut to her parents’ house. There was no reason to anyway.

Today, I’m technically here on club business so I’m wearing it. I wait while Mr. Volkov’s buggy eyes take in my Lost Kings MC patch and linger on my VP patch before speaking.

People look at you differently when you wear a patch. Women either fear you or want to fuck you. Men are different. They’ll either respect you, fear you, or want to prove they’re a bigger badass than you. The last one, I consider the stupidest, weakest kind of man.

The kind that will never earn my respect.

I haven’t decided which category Lilly’s father falls into yet. He already hates me. Not that I give a fuck.

“I was right.” His accent’s thicker now, he must be nervous. “You are a criminal.”

I lean forward and place my elbows on the desk. “Now what makes you say that?”

He nods to my cut.

“And why would a criminal come and visit you, Mr. Volkov?”

The old man scoffs. “You want to buy a rug?” Well, how about that? Guess he has a sense of humor buried under all that arrogance.

I sit back and drum my fingers over the arm of the chair. “A mutual friend of ours asked me to stop by and pick up a package.” I toss out the words casually, curious if he’ll put two and two together and come up with DeLova.

His face pales. Not as dumb as I thought.

“You got a serious problem, Luski. How do you even know a guy like DeLova anyway?”

He frowns as if I’m stupid for asking the question.

I glance around the back room. Dozens of rolled up carpets line one wall, but otherwise it’s tidy. Mostly empty. A large building in a nice, quiet part of upstate New York.

“You have a nice shop here.”

“This store has been in business for decades. I inherited it from my uncle.” There’s a note of pride in his voice that almost stirs some sympathy in me.

“How come Alex doesn’t work here then?” I don’t bother asking about Lilly. He’s already made it clear he’s the type of guy who wouldn’t bother leaving a family legacy in the hands of a female.

“Ah,” he grumbles and waves his hand in the air. “Never had any interest. Doesn’t matter anyway. The business isn’t what it used to be. Now, the market’s flooded with fakes. People don’t care about quality. They don’t know the difference between silk, wool, or acrylic.”

I get the feeling if I allow it, Mr. Volkov can wax on about this topic endlessly. While I’m actually interested—for reasons that have nothing to do with Lilly, DeLova, or rugs—I’ll have to save it for another day.

“I’m not interested in your inability to shift to the changing market, Luski.”

“You sound like Alex.”

“We have a more pressing problem. You owe DeLova fifty thousand dollars.”

His eyes widen and he jumps out of his chair. “Bullshit! I owe twenty-five.”

“You seriously don’t understand how this works? You don’t pay, he keeps tacking on interest and fees.”

Not much different than any other predatory lender. Hell, some loan sharks probably have lower interest rates than your average credit card or payday loan these days. Difference is one will destroy your credit, the other will end your life.

Loan sharks aren’t as patient as your average creditor either. They don’t bother dragging deadbeats into court. They send guys like me to break bones.

“I can get together thirty-five, but he needs to give me time for the rest and stop raising it.”

“What happened, Luski? Spend too much time in Saratoga last racing season?”

He purses his lips, indignant and stubborn. “No.”

“Come on. You can tell me.” I flash a shit-eating grin. “We’re family now.”

“No, we’re not.”

My smile vanishes and I lean forward to capture his attention. “No? Let me explain something, old man. The only reason I’m sitting here right now, instead of someone with a lot less patience, is because you’re my son’s grandfather and Lilly’s father. I think it would upset her if you get yourself killed, although I don’t see why she cares at all since you’re such an asshole to her.”

“How dare—”

“Don’t bother. I dare. Say what you want—I’m a criminal. I’m scum. Low life. Nothing out of your mouth’s gonna shock or offend me because I don’t respect you. And I sure as fuck don’t care about your opinion.”

Finally, he shuts his mouth.

“Why do you owe DeLova this money?”

His dark eyes burn with hatred. “Business, like I said, is bad. I can’t get credit anywhere else.” He’s a proud old man, so it cost him to admit that. “I need to keep insurance for myself and my wife.”

“What about your mistress? She got benefits through her job or something?” Yeah, I know, I’m a dick. I can’t help myself.

He snaps his mouth shut and glares at me.

“All right. You got loans with anyone else who’s gonna wanna crack your skull?”

“DeLova’s the only one.”

“And if I check into this, I’m not gonna find that you play the ponies or anything else? Don’t lie to me.”

“My vices are vodka and women. Always have been.”

“That’s precious.” I roll my eyes. “This is what’s going to happen. Listen carefully. I will repay your debt to DeLova. I’m going to make it clear to him that he’s not to loan you any more money.”

He sits back against his chair with a hard thump. “And then what?”

“Then, nothing. Sort yourself out. Reorganize your business. Sell it off. Turn it into something more profitable, like selling Halloween costumes. I don’t give a shit.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“What do you want? You going to tell me I can’t see my daughter?”

Interesting that’s where his mind went. “No. Lilly’s worth a hell of a lot more than fifty-thousand dollars.”

He snorts and shakes his head.

I stand and slap my hands on the desk, making him jump.

“That. Right there.” I point at his fat, judgmental face and slowly walk around the desk until he has to crane his neck to stare up at me. “That fucking attitude ends now. I won’t stop Lilly from seeing you or her mother—although I don’t know why she even wants to—but you will stop putting her down. You will stop trying to humiliate and shame her over shit that happened years ago. You’ll treat your daughter with the respect she deserves and act like a decent grandfather to my son.”

He blinks, but keeps his mouth shut.

“Are we clear?”

“Does Lilly know you’re here?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I already told you why. Your memory as bad as your business skills?”

He clamps his lips shut.

“Don’t make me come back and have this talk with you again, Luski. I won’t be as friendly.”

That went well.

Before strapping on my helmet, I send Chaser a quick text, asking to meet with his father-in-law tomorrow morning.

He confirms they’re still in the area and will make plans to stick around.

I send another text to Rock, letting him know things went well and I’m on my way back.

What I really want to do is stop by the clubhouse and make sure Lilly and Chance are okay.

Lilly

“Does this happen a lot?”

Hope and Trinity consider my question

carefully before answering.

“No, this is a first,” Hope says. “I don’t know how they’re ever going to find the shooter. The suspect list must be a mile or two long. Heck, I’ve even thought about killing Sway once or twice.”

Trinity snorts. “Every female who’s ever met him has probably considered it.”

“He’s that bad?” I ask.

Charlotte cocks her head. “He’s more like the macho-pig stereotype of a biker you’d expect. He reminds me of my uncle a lot.”

Heidi shrugs. “I’ve spent more time around Tawny than Sway. She’s like that ‘cool mom’ who serves you margaritas after school, then hits on your boyfriend.”

Trinity and Hope hoot with laughter.

“Oh my God,” Trinity gasps.