Page 122 of Indecent Lies

TWENTY-EIGHT

“The biker with many faces.” - Texas

The smartest way to get one over on a Russian underboss was to take it slow.

Lay the foundation for deceit and betrayal.

Over the following week, Texas went in sly and hard.

He didn’t have to play nice with Grigori, not now the man knew where he stood, but he did show up at his building and once at a restaurant when he was “summoned” he made like he was talking to Malachai and that his brother was heading to town very soon for this meeting.

It pleased Grigori.

Like Texas could give a fuck for making that man happy.

But he fed him ways to make fast and easy money.

Nothing that would clash with Rider or the club.

He made that abundantly clear.

And while he did this, he supplied what information he could get from drunken goons, so easily bribed with booze and cigars, to the sheriff.

In total that week, there were several raids for illegal imported liquor and cigarettes caught at the docks.

It was petty and small and probably didn’t cost Grigori anything other than it irritated the man and that was enough to have Texas grinning.

The big fish though was that porn warehouse and it was next on his agenda.

As yet, Grigori hadn’t mentioned the endeavor to Texas, but he could smell the money laundering from a mile away, and he was eager as a rottweiler to get his teeth into it. He considered a few times taking what he knew to Lawless, but though some of the boys were friendly with him, it didn’t mean they’d trust his word.

On this he was alone.

The opportunity came a few days later.

He made sure his girl was staying home that day and he went to meet the Russian.

He felt it in his bones, today was the day.

Slipping his phone away after alerting the sheriff not to be eating donuts any time soon, he stepped down off his bike and strode over to the warehouse where Grigori in his expensive threads and attitude waited.

He offered Texas a smirk and a handshake.

Texas ignored both.

“What’s this about? I thought my investment tips would have satisfied you for a while.”

“Problems this week kept me occupied. I want you to take a look at my latest venture and see where I can capitalize on it.”

The degenerate wanted to sell sex.

Texas nearly regurgitated the maple bacon pancakes Poppy made this morning.

He kept his face blank and followed him inside.

It was busy. Busier than he’d seen it on his reconnaissance

It was seedy as seedy could get. There was nothing arousing about the many set ups in each corner, the beds and couches all doctored for fucking and there was a weird smell in the air. Weed mixed with something else, like they were pumping stuff into the atmosphere. The noises, people moving around, mostly men shifting furniture, leading chicks onto different sets. Some were already naked, others in thin robes. He felt nothing but sympathy for these women. Whatever their circumstances, even if they loved fucking every hour of the day, there were better industries than a pimped out warehouse to do it.