Page 10 of Indecent Lies
For now, he had to deal with whatever Poppy Astor, socialite of New York was doing with a club like theDiablos.
This shit was bizarre, but he was going to find out what was happening.
Texas scraped a gloved hand through his dark, tousled hair. He kept it short because of the Carolina heat, but it was usually long enough on top to warrant the aid of hair product to tame it.
Probably because of his upbringing was the reason why he liked grooming and nice, expensive clothes. No one in the MC ribbed him maliciously about his state of dress not being a carbon copy of their worn jeans and vintage tees. Texas had always gone for designer denim with a matching belt, a pressed long-sleeved dress shirt with a thickly knotted tie along with his leather cut. A merge of his old with the new.
Oh, of fucking course they took the piss occasionally, especially when he wore a fancier tie, something that caught his eye on the Saks website, but he’d always, always felt part of the club.
And now he was the dickhead moping outside of their gates.
He wondered if Rider had assigned Texas’ treasurer patch to anyone yet.
A feeling ofwoe is meattacked his chest.
That was his patch, he’d earned it. And then lost it.
Sighing his own disgust, he revved the pipes of his black matte Harley with her custom slate gray bodywork done by Red Light, and he took off at high speed, hunched over the handlebars and the wind in his face, giving him clarity.
He’d deal with Poppy’s dilemma and head back south.
There was nothing left for him here, and he needed to accept that fact.
Pulling into the smaller operation of the Diablo Disciples MC sometime later, he climbed down off his bike, feeling every inch the ache for the long ride.
His eyes clocking everything and everyone as he approached their entryway in his slow rolling stride.
Their club was easily accessed. No one manning the gate whatsoever, and the door was wide open. Had Texas been of a mind to go crazed shooter, he could have taken out four of them instantly.
Four sets of eyes looked him over in his worn leather jacket and equally worn light denim and thick soled biker boots.
“Looking for Axel.” He said.
He recognized most of these men. Being part of theSouls, and the biggest MC with the most clout, the brothers made it their business to have the information on all of the neighboring MC’s. There was no hacking Lawless couldn’t do on any person.
That included the president of this club.
Axel Tucker, who straddled the line of morally corrupt almost as dangerously as Hades once did. The only good thing going for Axel was he didn’t deal in sex trafficking and he seemed to be fair with his men. Plus, the club was small and didn’t really have any influence whatsoever.
Hearing they were wanting a pay-out for Penelope was not unheard of in their circles. Business was business and an exchange for cash for a body was common.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Texas that he himself had been the man to put some of this MC into jail from the information he’d fed to his cop twin brother.
He was stepping into the lion’s den, how was that for some karma shit.
Wondering if Axel knew of what he’d done and that’s why he was holding Penelope flitted through his mind a time or two on the way here.
Rider was no snitch and wouldn’t have informed Axel that he was losing men because of Texas’ big mouth.
“Haven’t seen you at any of the rallies for a while, Texas.” The VP came forward and slapped his hand. “How’s it?”
“Not bad. How’s things with you, Chains?”
“I’d be better if we could get our guys out of lock up.”
Texas wasn’t even attacked with a pinch of guilt for his part in that.
He wasSoulsloyal, even if they didn’t think so.
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