Page 6 of Property of Prowler (Kings of Anarchy MC: Nevada #1)
Always wondering if there was someone out there that his wolf might fall for would kill a relationship. That’s the real reason he hadn’t kissed Taylor. It was like Schrodinger’s cat. She was and wasn’t his mate at the same time, as long as he never kissed her.
But the man in the video didn’t have that issue.
Prowler wanted to throw the phone across the room and go find Taylor.
Pin her against the nearest surface and erase that man’s lips from hers with his own.
He also wanted to throw the phone across the room, end things with Taylor, and grab one of the girls working for them and fuck her into next week.
Was Taylor ready to end their agreement and just hadn’t seen him yet to tell him? Or was she going to string two men along for however long it benefited her?
He didn’t think she was that type, which is why he even took up with her to begin with. However, he didn’t think he’d catch his ex in reverse cowgirl with another man when he married her either.
He was so deep in his head that he hadn’t realized all his brothers were there and waiting for him to open their meeting until Bulldog cleared his throat.
Prowler pulled his head out of his ass, dropped the gavel, and went immediately into discussing Hunter and Sleeper. Normally he liked to clear out old business first and handle shifter business after church, but Hunter wasn’t doing well, and this time, shifter and club business were intertwined.
Everyone looked to Kansas, the resident shifter expert, or what passed for one, for input.
“Like I said before, the only people I knew who suppressed their wolves with silver-laced tattoos all eventually went crazy or died, but it seems to be happening a lot quicker in Hunter than in the other cases I’ve seen.”
They all knew it was coming because, fuck if Kansas didn’t tell them that from the jump.
Suppress wasn’t the most accurate word. Severing the connection between man and beast was a more apt term.
Other than killing Hunter, it was the only choice they had.
He would be locked away for a long time no matter what, and he couldn’t last more than a month or two before his wolf forced a change.
“I think the difference is the tatt. In the men I knew about, it was redone, or more were added, every few years. The collective theory was when the wolf tries to break through and can’t, that’s when it drives the man over the edge.
So, keeping the wolf quiet is key. Of course, this was all still being tested when I left the commune. ”
Prowler had considered it himself, but they were unsure of how it would work in a quantum wolf, and he had Cass to consider.
As it was, they were two entities reluctantly sharing space. Natural wolves talked to their man, and they melded, two halves of a whole, but quantums were apparently different.
In the last few months, though, something had changed between Prowler and his wolf. He was growling and howling more, but Prowler still couldn’t decipher him.
“So, if we can smuggle in some silver-laced ink or powdered silver, we may buy him a few more years at a time,” Boogeyman mused.
“Worth a shot. The biggest issue with prison ink is infection. Does the severed wolf also suppress his wolf immunity and healing?” Monster asked.
“I don’t know. That wasn’t brought up before I left.”
Prowler didn’t miss the look that raced across Kansas’s face.
He’d left because the pricks in his community were testing on their own kind.
Kansas found out that it wasn’t a voluntary program when they came for him.
He was running away from other wolves, and Prowler was trying to run away from his own when they found each other.
They loved motorcycles and spent all their free time either on two wheels or four paws.
Before long, Bulldog, Ghoul, and Monster had joined them, and their chapter of the Kings of Anarchy MC was born.
“I can try to see if my friend is still there and if he has any information, but no promises. It’s been over a decade.”
For Kansas to volunteer to call anyone from his old pack was proof that his loyalty and love for his brothers in the Kings far outweighed the hatred for the Green Tree Commune, a.k.a. the Domino Pack.
The pack had killed Kansas’s whole family by the time he’d turned twenty-five. A family he thought died for a cause, the greater good, voluntarily. But in reality, they died to make a so-called alpha rich.
“Infection is the least of our worries. It’s a risk we need to take—ASAP,” Prowler decided.
“Ghoul, call the Shadow Angels Prez and make it happen. We need to get silver inside sooner rather than later. Give her a marker.” Prowler hated owing anyone a favor, but Ripley had a direct line into the prison, one they needed, and her club’s only restrictions were drugs or weapons, and their favor was neither of those things.
Ghoul lived at the Angels-owned trailer park and so was their “direct line” to the prison. Prowler had considered, more than once, letting Ghoul cut out the middlewoman, but he didn’t need bad blood. Their clubs co-existed peacefully in the same city, so why fuck that up?
“It’s as good as done.”
After a few more housekeeping things and financial reports, it came time for his least favorite subject, loan jumpers.
“Travis Barton is behind again. This is the third time. Last few times it was a matter of hours, so no need to call in muscle. This time he was a week late when we sent Chef and Monster to talk to him, now he’s in the wind.” Kansas reports.
“Anything to add?” Prowler turned to Chef and Monster.
“Real prick. At first, said he’d have it in a week, so we gave him a reminder of what a week had already cost him and what another would tack on. As he drove off, he yelled some shit, but it’s nothing anyone else doesn’t say when we come a-knocking.”
“Word on the street is he’s been running his mouth, bragging about stiffing us,” Monster added.
“Any clue where to start looking?” Prowler knew if they had any answers, they would’ve said, but he asked anyway.
“His SRO was cleaned out. His car tags expired. Parents deceased. Two siblings. A sister who fell off the face of the earth a few years ago. Only viable lead is a brother over in Utah.”
“What’s the damage?”
“Fifteen.”
“Loan or in-house?”
Most people would assume that a fifteen-thousand-dollar debt was just that, but the Kings treated it differently. If they lent 15K in cash, that was a lot worse than someone who gambled away that same amount on credit at the Kings’ tables.
A cash loan came with much higher interest, but both still had to be paid back so others didn’t get ideas. Besides, Travis was running his mouth, and that had to be dealt with.
“He split it. Took ten in-house and walked with the other five.”
The Kings didn’t like to make noise unless they needed to. All loans went through their check-cashing business to clean shit up, but if someone looked too hard into their loan practices, there’d be questions.
“Get some more info on the brother. Mainly what he does and who he knows. Then we’ll find the angle to come at the brother to find Travis and get our money back from him one way or another.”
What Prowler didn’t have to say was hands off the brother. They weren’t in the habit of transferring responsibility to any available party. Now, if said party was aware that Travis owed them and was hiding him, that was a different story.
“What else we got?”
“Got the ride through Red Rock next week and the party at Ransom after. The noise waiver came through this week, but we had a snafu with the food truck, but I’m on it. I’ll keep you informed.”
Prowler nodded. They needed new blood, so a party was what was called for. However, some of their animals felt territorial over their clubhouse, so when they hosted a more public event, one where every single attendee wasn’t vetted, they opted for the bar.
They cordoned off the parking lot, hired a band, and kept it always lit. Bonus, the hotel reaped the benefits of overindulgence with their discounted room rates for ticket holders. Plus, it was always good for scoping out potential customers for their brothel and tables.
After all other business and issues had been addressed, Prowler gaveled the meeting closed. He wanted nothing more than to get home to his daughter and see Taylor.
He wasn’t sure if he was pissed at her or not, nor was he sure if they should end things or keep going. What he did know was, either way, their relationship had to change. He just wasn’t sure which way that would be yet.
The hard part was Taylor would have to wait. Cassidy came first, and his time with her was limited.
Just then the air was filled with an old Le Tigre and Bunny song.
“You changed my ringtone again, I see.”
Her laughter was lively. “Do you like it?”
“Better than the last one, I guess. What’s up, Jellybean?”
The last song had been some country singer from like the fifties, so yeah, “The Cars That Go Boom” was better.
“What time will you be home tonight?”
“Around five. What do you want me to pick up on the way home? Lettuce or tomatoes?” he joked.
“Ugh, Dad, you know vegan food is more … never mind. Don’t pick up anything except some wildflowers. And maybe spray some cologne on before you head home so you don’t smell like, well, smoke, sweat, and perfume.”
The last word was said with an upward inflection combined with a conspiratorial tone. He didn’t exactly hide what he did from Cass, but he didn’t share details either. She knew the club owned businesses, the legit ones, anyway, but apparently, she smelled the not-so-legal ones on him as well.
“Why?” Then some pieces fell into place. “Cass, this smells like a setup.” One that he didn’t exactly hate the idea of.
“Taylor ordered this vegan tenderloin that finally arrived, and we’re making beefless wellington. It’ll be nice, and maybe you guys can get to know each other over dessert.”