Page 9

Chapter Eight

“How was your trip? Willow tells me you brought home a souvenir.” My gran fishes for information about Jessika.

“She’s got a big mouth.”

“How about you tell me about it over some macaroni and cheese?” She’s not asking.

Nobody makes macaroni and cheese as good as my Grannie Mags.

The woman knows it’s the way to my heart.

She’s a tough old bird who gives as good as she gets.

Loves to argue and is always right. Doesn’t matter what it is.

You don’t back talk or you’ll catch the end of her wooden spoon.

I wouldn’t change her for the world. She’s a rare breed of woman.

“Come on. Let’s sit out back.”

Her back deck is her favorite spot. It overlooks Devil’s Creek Lake.

I take a seat and let her serve me. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

She’s spoiled me with love since the day I came into this world.

Has always has my back and looked out for me.

Raised me and my siblings when our mother and father were too busy chasing their next high.

Only time my mom as ever clean was when she was pregnant.

It’s a miracle none of us were born crack babies.

“Here you are. Eat up. Lord knows you’d starve to death if you had to depend on that wife of yours.”

She’s not wrong. Faye doesn’t do a damn thing unless there is something in it for her. Mainly money or an orgasm.

“Did she give you a hard time while I was gone?” I dig into the cheesy goodness and take a swig of her sweet peach tea.

“Never saw her.”

I pause mid-bite. “She didn’t come by to check on you?”

“We both know you didn’t marry her for her work ethic or sense of family. I told her not to come.” She purses her lips, and I can tell she wants to say more but is holding back. She’s never liked Faye. She tolerates her at best.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She folds her hands together, flashing her newest diamond ring. “Heard your new toy is a real looker.”

“I don’t have a new toy.”

“You put her in your room at the clubhouse.”

“Now, how do you know that?”

“I know everything that goes on in those walls. Do you have my rent money?”

Low must’ve told her.

“Yeah.” I pull the envelope stuffed with cash from my cut.

The clubhouse’s property is in her name.

Grannie Mags owns half the town. Unofficially, the properties and businesses belong to the club, but having them in her name is protection.

We own lots of shit. Storage buildings. Moving trucks.

Coin-operated laundry facilities. Commercial real estate.

A strip club. All fronts to launder where our real money comes from.

Manufacturing and selling Diamond Dust. High-quality speed.

My sister handles most of the bookkeeping. Gran taught her. Faye was supposed to learn, but she’d rather sit on her ass and look pretty. Maybe it’s better she doesn’t know how it all works. Fuck knows how much longer she’s going to be in the picture.

“I’ll get this deposited. Need me to find a job for your new friend?”

“Not yet. I’ve gotta catch up with Gray and pay a visit to the kitchen.”

“Bring your friend by for dinner. I want to meet her.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“I’m not asking for permission, Curtis.”

Shit. The last thing Jessika needs is being subjected to my Grannie Mags and one of her interrogations.

I find Gray at our laundromat, Strip & Spin collecting our coins with Catfish.

It’s our easiest business. Place never closes.

Cameras in the lobby. Gray or one of the guys comes by to collect the money, restock the vending machines, and empty the trash.

All the club members are on our payroll.

Makes shit legit for taxes and keeps their asses out of trouble for the most part.

“How’d we do?”

“Not bad. Was about to drop this at the office with Low.”

Yeah, I bet I know why he wants to see Low. Fucker.

“She’s not there. She took Jessika shopping in Fayetteville.”

His expression falls. Disappointment is there but he tries to cover it. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“No, but Foolish and Rizz are with them.”

“Those two clowns. You could have asked me.”

“Figured you and Low could use some space after the rally.” I fish, seeing if he bites.

“We’re cool. You know how your sister gets, man.”

“Besides. We need to pay a visit to the kitchen. See if we’re still on schedule. Drop off supplies. You swing by Big & Stuffed yet?”

“Nope.” He empties the next machine.

“We’ll hit that before we ride out. Faye’s working.”

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” He’s another member of the I Hate Faye Fanclub.

Maybe I should start handing out membership cards and sell t-shirts.

“What crawled up your ass, man? Did Madz kick you out of her bed?” I give him another chance to come clean with me.

“That’s not a thing anymore.”

“Since when?”

He shrugs. “Since before the rally. Why don’t you go see your wife at B& S, drop the money off at the office for when Low is back, and I’ll take the supply drop to the kitchen?”

“All right.” I take the money bags from him and give him the keys to the cargo van. “It’s loaded up at the warehouse. Take Cash and Shaggy with you.”

“You expecting trouble?”

“Never can be too careful. Church later. Catfish, you’re with me, man.”

Back in my truck, I stuff extra five-, ten-, and twenty-dollar bills into the money bags to wash some of our money.

The key is staying under radar. Keeping consistent.

Not drawing attention to ourselves with extravagant purchases.

We live within our means and give back to the town.

Just your friendly neighborhood drug dealers, except we don’t sell in Devil’s Creek.

People around here know who we are and what we do. They look the other way because we’re the devil they know. They don’t fuck with us. They know better, but that doesn’t mean that from time to time some dumb motherfucker doesn’t try some stupid shit.

And when they do, we make them wish they’d never attempted to fuck with the KOAMC.

Last guy to try it took five across the eyes from my brother and his brass knuckles.

The charge got Dirty five years. He’s been in for three.

I’m about due to visit him. He should have a shot at parole coming up.

If he can keep his ass out of trouble and stop getting into petty fights.

We pay a pretty fucking penny for his protection and have a couple of guards who do us some favors for the right price.

“You been to see my brother lately?” I ask Catfish. The two of them used to be thick as thieves but then Dirty fucked this bitch he was into and shit was never the same between them after that.

“Not in a while. Why do you ask?”

“He usually calls on Sundays. Didn’t get a call this week.” I move to the next stall of the carwash, dumping the coins from the sprayer into the designated money bag.

“You know Dirty, man. Fucker probably got in a fight and put in the damn hole.” He shakes his head and changes out the bags for the garbage cans. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“We’ve got a problem. There’s a finger in this one.”

“Shit. Don’t touch anything else. Let’s check the cameras.

” We don’t have them in every stall, but we can see who comes in and out of the lot.

We’re used to seeing used condoms and dirty panties but I don’t think we’ve ever had body parts in our trash before.

I know it isn’t any of my guys. They wouldn’t be that fucking stupid.

I unlock the maintenance shed and roll back through the footage of the past week or so, looking for anything suspicious.

Perfect fucking timing that the day after I bring a chick on the run from the cartel home with me, that a goddamned finger shows up in the garbage of one of our businesses.

Could be a coincidence but I don’t believe in them.

“What are you thinking?” Catfish questions.

“I’m not sure.” I scrub a palm over my face. “Did it look male or female?”

“Hell, I dunno. I saw fucking finger with maggots squiggling around on it.”

At least that tells me it can’t be related to Jessika. “Call it in and wait for Fletcher to show. If he gives you a hard time, call me.”

“What do I say when I call?”

“Call the non-emergency line and tell them you saw a fucking finger in the garbage.”

“Where are you gonna be?”

I grin and clamp him on the shoulder. “I’m going to see my ol’ lady. Have fun playing detective with Fletcher.” I chuckle and he flips me the bird. “Maybe he’ll let you turn on the sirens.”

“Fuck you.”

I bend over and shake my ass at him. He tries to kick me and slips on the wet pavement.

“Ow. Fuck. Goddamn it. Son of a bitch,” he lets out a string of curses.

I hold out a hand o help him up then lean over him and pump my hips at him like he’s sucking my dick.

“I fuckin’ hate your stupid ass,” he grumbles, pushing me away.

“You love me.”

“Someone has to but I’m pretty sure it’s your grandma. At least that’s what she told me last night.” he laughs and I punch him in the gut.

“Asshole.”

“Hey.” I move in for a kiss and Faye shrinks away from me. “What’d I do now?”

“Do you have to ask?”

“You still pissed about yesterday?”

“She’s sleeping in your room.”

“You had her sleeping upstairs with the prospects. I can put her in our guestroom if you prefer.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I lick my lips. “You done?”

“Baby, I haven’t even gotten started.”

“It’s too damn early in the day for this shit. Catfish found a finger in the garbage barrel at Wet Willy’s.”

“A finger?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe someone is trying to send you a message.”

“And what would that be?” I press toward her, caging her in behind the counter.

My feisty wife places both palms against my chest. “To go fuck yourself.” She pushes against me, and I take a step back.

My cell vibrates with a call from Gray. “What now?” I mutter to myself before accepting the call. “Talk to me.”

“You should get to the kitchen soon as you can.”

“Is there a problem?”

“Depends on how you look at it. You’ve gotta see this shit for yourself.”

Fuck. “I’ll be there soon.” I end the call and Faye stares at me with raised brows, expecting me to clue her in. “We’ll talk later, yeah?”

“Sure,” she says, her tone pure bitch attitude. I used to find it sexy. Now it only serves to piss me off.

“Should I bother coming home or would you prefer I share my bed with Jessika at the clubhouse?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“You’d like that, huh?”

“You know, Woods…” she shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose, “forget it. Doesn’t matter.”

“That’s your problem, Faye. You don’t give a shit.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” the words come out sounding as empty as her eyes look when her gaze meets mine.

“What do you want me to say, then? You tell me, babe.”

“I don’t know, but this isn’t working. We aren’t working.”

“So what? You’re giving up? You’re done?”

A fat tear rolls down her cheek. “Maybe.”

“Fucking perfect. That’s great.”

I shove out the door and head to the kitchen to see how much more fucked my day can get.