3

SEVEN

“ Y ou got a minute?”

“Yeah.” Prez looked up from his paperwork just long enough for him to gesture for me to come into his office. “Come on in.”

I nodded, then stepped into the room. His office smelled like leather and cigar smoke. It was a scent so familiar it felt like a second skin. Preacher sat behind his desk with his massive frame leaning back in his chair and a cigar clamped between his teeth.

As soon as I was seated, he removed the cigar from his mouth and asked, “What’s on your mind?”

“The upcoming run.”

“Okay,” he replied, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the desk. His eyes burned with the intensity he always carried when it came to business. “What about it?”

“Demand for the shrooms has been higher than we expected. Maybe it was the holidays, or maybe it’s just really good shit. Either way, if we stick to the original schedule, we’ll be out before the next shipment gets here.”

“How much faster are we talking?”

“A week, maybe less.”

He stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray as he grumbled, “Damn.”

Prez had a lot on his plate. Not only did he have a club to run, but his ex ol’ lady had been staying at the clubhouse. She’d run into some trouble when her husband double-crossed some of his work clients. He stole their money, and they didn’t take too kindly to it. They came after him, and when they couldn’t track him down, they came after her.

Under different circumstances, Preacher might’ve told her that he was sorry about her luck, but Kay was Memphis’ mother. And seeing that Memphis was his only living son, he knew he couldn’t turn his back on her. They’d had some fiery moments—some hot enough to make you wonder if there were still some sparks between them.

Preacher would never admit it, at least not to one of us, but I could tell that the whole thing had been weighing on him. I hated to add more to his plate, so I said, “I know it’s a hassle, but we can’t afford to go dry. Customers will start looking elsewhere when we can’t deliver.”

“I’ll put a call into Viper and see if they can move up the date for pick up.”

“Need to discuss upping the shipment while you’re at it. The demand is high, and it’s only gonna grow. We need to make sure we stay ahead of the game.”

He didn’t respond. He just sat there and took a moment to think things over. I understood his hesitation. Upping the load meant more risk. Bigger hauls drew more attention, and the cops in Nashville weren’t exactly on the payroll. Prez gave me one of his looks as he asked, “What are we gonna need to do to make it happen?”

“We’ll need a little more muscle on the ground. Ghost and Memphis can handle the lead with Skid and Smitty, and then Rusty and Goose can follow behind as backup. Maybe even Dagger if he’s available.”

“And the route?”

“Going up there is one thing. Coming back fully loaded is another. Going to need to make some adjustments,” I said. “More back roads and will need to steer clear of the interstate. I’ll see if Shep can find us a better route back.”

“Handle it.”

I nodded, then stood and started for the door. As I started down the hall, I felt the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders. It wasn’t a new feeling. I’d felt it many times before, especially when it came to the club and our livelihood. But it was what I’d signed up for.

I knew from the start that being the club’s sergeant-at-arms wasn’t just about carrying some title or keeping my brothers in line. It was about loyalty and sacrifice. It was doing whatever it took to protect the life we’d built. The weight of my decisions had kept me up at night, and I’d taken hits that most wouldn’t recover from.

But I’d do it all again and more for my brothers.

They were my family, and if it ever came down to it, I wouldn’t hesitate to take a bullet for any one of them, and they’d do the same for me.

When I walked into Shep’s office, I was hit with the faint scent of coffee and stale cigarette smoke—a smell that seemed to have seeped into the walls over the years. He was the club’s hacker and the only one I trusted to find the best alternate route to the Manor and back.

The flickering light from the monitors reflected off Shep's glasses, which made him look more like a mad scientist than a badass computer hacker. He was focused on his screen and completely oblivious that I was watching him from the doorway. I cleared my throat and said, “Hey, Shep. Got a minute?”

Shep’s fingers never stopped moving across the keys as he looked up and answered, “Sure thing. What’s up?”

“We’re making some changes to next week’s run…”

I took a moment to give him the same spiel about our quickly diminishing inventory I’d given Preacher, and it didn’t take him long to figure out why I’d come to him. “You need me to find a safer route to the Manor.”

“I do, but I don’t want to add a lot of time to the run. The faster we get there, the better—but I need a back road, something under the radar that won’t draw any unwanted attention.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.”

He whipped around in his chair and began typing once again. In a matter of seconds, he’d pulled up a high-tech navigation program. He scanned through endless streams of maps and satellite images. He wasn’t just a guy who knew how to hack into things; he had a mind that could process information faster than anyone I’d ever known.

“I get that you want to stick to the back roads, but most of them in that area are either dirt or private property. Getting through without anyone noticing is gonna be tricky.”

“How tricky?”

“Nothing we can’t handle.” He zoomed in on a section of the map and highlighted roads I didn’t recognize. “This route should work, but we’ll need to prepare for any unplanned guests along the way.”

I watched the screen as Shep plotted out the route. “What about cameras or security systems? Are we gonna be in the clear?”

“This route will keep us off the radar for about ninety-five percent of the trip. Some of these roads are out in the middle of nowhere. Worst you’re gonna run into is an old farmer with a shotgun.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll plan to do a run-through tomorrow.”

“Want me to tag along?”

“Probably not a bad idea.”

“Then, I’ll be there. I’ll send the detailed map and coordinates to our phones.”

“Sounds like a plan.” As I started out of the room, I told him, “Headed to the Vault. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, and we can hit it.”

“I’ll be sitting on go.”

“Appreciate it, brother.”

I left there and drove straight to the club. It was well after opening, and the parking lot was already filling up. I knew the girls could handle it without me, but I liked to be there to supervise, especially at open. Too many things could go wrong—like one of the girls not showing up or the truck delivery running late. It was my job to make sure things didn’t go off the rails, so I parked and headed straight inside to check on things.

When I walked through the front door, I was pleased to see that everything seemed to be running smoothly. Ghost and Gash were covering the entrance and watching intently as Casey made her way to the stage. Skid and Zeke were monitoring the back and watched Stella as she finished her set. Jen was behind the bar, and Misty was taking orders at the front tables.

Since I didn’t have any fires to put out, I grabbed a soda from the bar and headed over to Skid and Zeke. I couldn’t help but notice that Skid was looking a little deflated as I approached. I had no idea what was up with him until I heard him tell Zeke , “ I don’t get it, man. I thought I had it locked down.”

“ Clearly not,” Zeke chuckled.

“I don’t know what happened.” Skid glanced over at Jasmine, one of the new strippers, and sighed. I knew then why he was struggling. She was a beautiful redhead, tall and slender and stacked, and she could have her choice of any man in town. And from the sounds of it, she hadn’t chosen Skid. “One minute, she was eating out of the palm of my hand, and the next…”

"Dude, she was literally five feet away from you.”

"She was playing hard to get.” Skid shrugged. “What can I say? I like a challenge."

"She’s more than a challenge, brother. She’s more like a no chance in hell.”

"You don’t get it. She’s probably just shy."

"Shy?” I scoffed. “She shows her tits and ass for money. She’s far from shy.”

We all laughed, but Skid was staring off into space, clearly still replaying the awkward interaction. "She told me she needed to go ‘take care of some stuff.’”

“And we all know what that means,” I laughed, as we continued ribbing him.

“It don’t mean shit,” Skid snapped. “She has a set in half an hour.”

"It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact she ain’t interested in picking up what you’re laying down?”

“You know what?” Skid’s eyes narrowed. “Screw you. She’s just playing hard to get.”

“Hard to get?” Zeke nearly spit out his beer. “Brother, she’s playing ‘never gonna happen.’”

We all laughed, and I was about to throw in another jab when my phone started to ring. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced down at the screen. When I saw that it was Mom calling, I held up my hand and said, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

My mom wasn’t the type to call for no reason, so I dipped out and rushed to my office just in time to answer, “Hey, Ma. What’s up?”

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m sorry to bother you, but…,” she started, her voice tinged with that mix of worry and urgency I knew all too well. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. I just had this feeling, and it’s been gnawing at me all afternoon. I don’t know what it is, but something isn’t right.”

“Well, everything’s good here,” I said, leaning against the wall and running a hand through my hair. “I’m at work, and everything’s golden.”

“Okay,” she sighed.

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“You know how it is when I get one of these feelings of mine... They’re rarely ever wrong, Holt. I’m telling ya. Something bad is coming. I just need you to promise me you’re being careful.”

“Yeah, I promise,” I said, though the knot in my stomach tightened. She wasn’t lying. Her instincts were always on point, and I couldn’t help but wonder what bullshit was about to come knocking at my door. Hoping to ease my mother’s mind, I told her, “You don’t gotta worry, Ma. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t patronize me. I know all too well that you can take care of yourself, but I’m your mother. I’m going to worry. It comes with the territory.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“Just... stay safe, okay? And call me tomorrow. Let me know you’re alright.”

“Will do,” I said, softening my tone. “Love you, Ma.”

“Love you, too.”

When the call ended, I stayed there for a moment, just staring at the phone. Her words clung to me as I shoved my phone in my pocket, then headed back out to the floor and rejoined Skid and Zeke. They were still going at it, but for me, the teasing had lost its edge. Mom’s bad feeling had turned into my bad feeling, and I had no idea what I was going to do about it.