Page 115 of Dirty Salvation
Jed had always been in his shit, always the one to check things were good with him, yacking his ear off on nights he'd rather not talk. He was closer to Jed than most of his blood family. With a spike of white hair once jet black, his Tee pulled tight against his chest and arms, a pair of ray ban aviators always hooked in the collar no matter the season, no one would assume Jed was nearly seventy.
"Thinking 'bout expansion."
"You got ideas for Nebraska dontcha?" His uncle was perceptive. Rider admired he never had to dumb shit down for him to understand.
Last reports from the Lincoln president was their chapter wasn't doing so good moneywise. Wasn't surprising since they only had one real business to speak of with the auto repair, and even that was flagging way under its potential. He made a rumbled hmmm noise, slurping his drink not really tasting the hot coffee.
"I'm thinking of having Red Light take a trip through, he's stationed in Kansas right now, but you know the turnaround he did for their chapter, fuck, from what Mason says he wants to marry Red Light to make sure he sticks around."
Jed chuckled.
"The boy has the magic touch with engines same as his daddy did. Don’t think he’d accept a ring from Mason, no matter how big that rock was. Pity his wandering spirit can't stay still for more than five minutes, he could have his own Trump Towers if he applied himself."
Rider agreed.
Even since he'd met Red Light ... the name given to him because he didn't believe in stopping for very long ... he'd known the nomad wouldn't patch for the mother charter, though he would have loved to have him around on a daily basis, Jed wasn't wrong, Red Light was a fucking magician, almost as if cars repaired themselves under his touch, and his custom designs for bikes were always in demand among their crew.
The bike Rider owned was built from the ground up by Red Light and she was a dream to ride.
"I doubt anything will get him to settle in one place longer than a few months ... fortunately we still benefit from what he does. Nebraska needs something before it sinks without hope, and H wants him there like yesterday. I told him to let me think on it. Maybe send Preacher with him..."
Silence. And then.
"You think that wise? what with what happened the last time they were both in the same place at the same time? I mean, how much bail money you got lying around these days?"
Rider stood, stretched his aching spine. Hated sitting behind this desk trying to make paperwork seem like it was fun. It was not fucking fun. At all.Ever. Thank god, he'd taken Zara on as his office manager, she loved playing with numbers, crazy…she seemed to truly love it.
As for Red Light and Preacher. Fuck. Jed was right, but that was a headache for another day. "They can get over it, club comes first."
His mind was made up; the decision would be taken to church for the vote. He'd then call the nomad and ask him to take a trip to Lincoln, check out what they needed to make a turnover profit worth counting this year.
If Rider left it to the yearly annual get together with all the clubs coming together for an end of year blowout, then the Nebraska chapter might very well be forced to close, sending their members across the country to patch in elsewhere if they even decided to stay on, some didn't and that was a sorry shame.
Before that happened, reluctant to have his club dwindle even one chapter while the other meagre chapters ofRebelswere still in some sort of shape to hit back what with the cocksucker Hades' out there somewhere, he needed to keep them going, even if it meant pumping fucking cash down to Lincoln from his own pocket.
Fuck. He sighed, ran both hands through his hair, he could feel a headache trying to push through the back of his skull, reaching into the desk drawer he pulled out a half packet of tums, tossing four into his mouth on a loud crunch, if his head didn't explode first then surely the ulcer brewing his gut would get him.
The life of a fucking president. It wasn't all glamorous.
He stood to his full ropey height, left the empty cup on his overflowing paperwork strewn desk, scowling at it one last time.
Zara’s problem now, and if she blamed Texas for its existence. Rider grinned slyly, he'd toss his brother under that bus no problem.
"C'mon, old man, chow time. Tiny’s making some fancy shit eggs today, saw it on the food network, to get your gums around. Let's head back."
Zara had been helping his brother there as well.
She was becoming a part of them. Perfect old lady.
The dark thought made him smile.
Jed chuckled and followed him out, giving a shrewd smirk Rider's way as he matched his long stride. Jed might be one of the senior members now, having been there on day one of the RS conception, but he could keep up with the young kids ... even if his arthritis was killing him and that was something Rider worried about, not that the old man would slow down. Rider saw every time he winced if he grabbed onto something too quickly with his gnarled fingers, but he never pointed it out to the old man, he was too prideful for that to have his nephew know he was in pain.
"Dontcha mean you wanna get your eyes all over your girl, what's it been, an hour since ya seen her? Ah, can’t beat young love, son. Enjoy it while it lasts, then they all turn into my old lady with the nagging. But..I still get a boner every time I see my Helen." he laughed again and waved to the boys who were trudging over to begin working at the shop, who waved back.
Rider just smiled. His uncle wasn't wrong. His addiction to Zara now he had her taste back in his mouth was growing by the fucking day.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
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