Page 93 of Tracking Luxe

What these Russian born dumbfucks had failed to realize was the Renegade Souls were more than just a club for aging men to tinker with bikes.

They were family.

And anyone knew family was power, money can open many doors that wouldn’t have ordinarily unlocked for the likes of any of theSoulsmen in everyday circumstances. With any biker club it was not only who you know, what you know, but who the fuck you were, but as Grinder knew, money greased a lot of palms and would go on doing so because as notorious as his club was throughout Colorado and the rest of the states, they didn’t practice a flamboyant entrance, they didn’t court the media, though sometimes their names were in print and that couldn’t be helped, and they sure as shit didn’t look for the spotlight. Extortion, blackmail, money laundering even, and of every fucker knowing everyone’s business before it even happened and status updates and cyber-finance, theSouls, to some degree still slipped under the radar of normal life, they skirted the laws with barely a twitch of culpability.

The reputation was enough to announce their presence.

Their organization went deeper than motorcycles and wild parties. While people focused on the badass reputation, Grinder and his buddies, with Rider at the helm, were raking in illegal money hand over fist because family knew how to be loyal.

It was the likes of thebratvawith their big crime reputation that was more prone to have wiretaps, surveillance and FBI busts. The RS were a little more money wise than that by not involving themselves in the kind of crime that caused a stir within the law. Greedy idiots were idiots. Among the MC world that idiot had been Hades, that shady fucker had been tangled in crime from sex trafficking to hardcore drugs that no decent drug dealer would push through the system, he’d had no moral compass… but worse, no brain power to think his shit through. Now the Russian’s were trying to utilize once more on that open market, needing a third to traffic their shit through and the RS were not playing ball.

The profits would be huge, no doubt about it, climbing into bed with the Russian’s would bring in more revenue than the club had seen in a good while, but as Rider said, and every man around the church table agreed, no amount of profit was worth it to play bitch to abratva. TheSoulsdidn’t bend over for anyone, least of all dickbags they didn’t even like. It was just not good business.

The Russian’s were pushing.

And Renegade Souls pushed back harder.

Before the money they were family.

And you don’t fuck with family.

His jaw tightened when they were in hearing distance, their language rolling off their tongues in deep tones.

“You are from the Renegade Souls,da?” give this man a coconut. Grinder arched a brow at the one who spoke and then the one who was staring.

Casually he moved the box to the hand holding the baggie, to free up his fighting hand. Just in case. “What of it?”

“Grinder, is it not?”

A trickle of unease ran down his spine. It was broad daylight and gunfire would draw too much attention.

Side stepping Grinder tried to move to the right to continue walking. The silent one moved with him, blocking his path. Smiling sinisterly.

A growl gurgled in Grinder’s throat. “You asking me on a date, man?”

“Funny. The Renegade Soul is funny, Mishkov,da?”

“Da.” The other man agreed. Funny, they didn’t look amused.

“We are very good friends with your boss.”Fucking liar.

“Okay then…” Two Russians blocking his path, he had two choices, go around or through. While he knew it was the same two dudes who had been following him, he didn’t want to cause a scene on the street until he had backup.

Grinder could only speculate it had something to do with the robbery.

Did they know about Luxe as well? His belly filled with cold dust.

He’d destroy them where they stood if they dared step a foot in her orbit. “You wanna get the fuck out of my way?” he issued coldly. Keeping his stare going. Angry blood roared in his ears. He didn’t like being challenged, didn’t like it at all, not from dickheads who thought they had some nefarious secret on him. But now he knew it was no coincidence, not with their open challenge like this in the veil of friendliness. They knew something and they’d wanted Grinder to know they knew it.

After a long thirty seconds both Russian’s moved to the side and nodded. “Be seeing you, Grinder.”

Not if I see you first, fuckwank.

Grinder strode to his car and made a call to the compound before starting up the engine.

Without proof, would they make a move? That’s what he had to assume. It’s what he’d do.

With a tick working his jaw tightly and his mind busy, he set off.