“That’s suicide when our mother charter’s a five-hour ride away.” I stop for a beat. “Unless they think they have the backing of another club.”
“That’s my concern.”
“So, what’s Digger doing about it?” As small as our upstate NY charter is, the second Rock has a whiff of another MC sniffing around their territory, he puts an end to it. Even Sway, for all his—many—faults was always aware of who was trying to invade our territory when he was president. Still, having Z in charge is far better.
“Nothing,” Priest spits. “Claims he’s keeping tabs on the situation. But he’s too busy running their whorehouse-saloon to instill much confidence.”
It’s not really a secret that Priest isn’t fond of all the wink-of-the-pink businesses our clubs run. What exactly he expects a bunch of bikers to dabble in, and still stay semi-legal, I have no idea. Lost Kings have never touched human trafficking and never will. Priest frowns on trafficking heavy narcotics, and weapons. The few charters that defy him on the drugs and guns better make serious bank and stay out of trouble, otherwise, they land on his shit-list fast. After those big three, there aren’t a whole lot of profitable areas for outlaws to earn big.
“I’ll be near Nashville after the tour. Shelby’s recording her album there. But we have the next few days off. I can take a detour if you feel the situation is more urgent.”
“I knew I could count on you.” he says with a sly eyebrow raise.
Spying on another charter for Priest is a good way to get a reputation as National’s bitch. Not a title I’ve ever aspired to own.
But it’s not like saying no to Priest is an option either.
“I’m always happy to stop in and say hello.” I consider who I’m traveling with. Dawson and his crew would provide excellent coverage for a spy mission. We left them at Dawson’s friend’s ranch but some of the roadies weren’t thrilled about staying put for the next couple days. They’ve been itching to have “fun.” A field trip to the Royal Dolls Gentlemen’s Club could be a nice bonding activity for everyone. “I’ll see if we can get some of the guys from the tour to go with us. Make it seem like a casual visit.”
His eyes gleam with approval. “Your woman going to be okay with you visiting there?”
Jesus, yeah, that’s all I need to tell Priest. My girlfriend won’t let me go to a strip club. “She’ll be fine.”
“Bring her,” he suggests. “The more casual the visit seems, the better.”
Thanks, Priest. Wasn’t planning to go without her.
“It’s not urgent, so whenever works for you.”
I’m going to take Priest at his word on that for now. This could be a test, though.
“Let me know how the visit goes.”
Yup, can’t wait.
Not that I want to be a little bitch, but the conversation I had with Priest feels like something I need to talk to Z about.
Valentina hands me a room key and points me in the direction of where we’ll stay tonight. The club has several small cabins behind the main clubhouse. From what I’ve been told it used to be a resort area in the Eighties. Lots of acreage and privacy.
Even though it’s hotter than fucking balls, everything surrounding the clubhouse is lush and green. Trimmed and landscaped better than some state parks too.
“Must take a lot of prospects to maintain this property,” Shelby says in a low voice.
I huff out a laugh. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Please tell me this cabin has a/c?”
“Yeah, probably a window unit, but it’ll have it.”
“Thank gawd.” She pulls her tank top away from her misty skin and flaps the material around enough to give me a glimpse of her breasts.
“I want to lick the sweat from between your breasts once we’re inside.”
Her shocked side-eye melts into a sassier expression. “Well, there’s plenty of it.”
Fuck, I love her.
Inside the cabin is neater than I expected. Smells cleaner than I thought it would too. Shelby’s quick to flick on the air conditioner. She lifts her hair and lets the air blow on her neck for a few seconds.
“You mind if I make a few phone calls?” I ask.
“Nope.” She grabs her bag and pulls out her travel case. “I’m taking a shower.”
I push my face into a disapproving pout.
“I know.” She reaches up and pats my cheek. “I’ll sweat more. Don’t worry.”
I wait until I hear the shower start to call Z. He answers on the second ring. After I explain the situation, the motherfucker has the nerve to laugh for a solid minute.
“You done, Prez?” I grumble.
“Let me think on it.” A beat of silence. “Yeah, I’m finished.”
“Fucking hilarious. Really.”
“Aw, you fell for the old scare—compliment—favor routine. He’s done it to all of us. Just means he thinks you’re management material.” Z laughs even harder.
“Fantastic.”
“Look,” he says a little more seriously, “This sounds like a win-win all around. Show Dawson and his guys a good time at one of our clubs. Gather information for Priest, make him happy—which by the way will make me happy—then be on your merry way to the next destination.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Because it is.”
He should know better than anyone.
Nothing is ever simple in our world.
Chapter Forty-Three
Rooster
Big surprise—everyone’s eager to check out the Royal Dolls Gentlemen’s Club. Dawson, his crew, Shelby’s band, my brothers. I think the only person who didn’t share the enthusiasm was Wrath. Oh, and Greg. He didn’t even answer my text. Even Dex, who so far has mostly kept to himself on this adventure, is eager to check out their operation.
“Maybe they have some ideas I can bring back to Crystal Ball,” he explains.
I believe him. Dex takes everything he does for the club seriously.
“Such a diligent manager.” Pants slaps Dex on the back a few times.
Before we leave, I stop to see Priest and let him know where we’re headed. He seems pleasantly surprised. I knew that easy-going “stop in whenever you want” line of his was bullshit.
I also call ahead and let Digger know we’re coming. Basic brother-to-brother courtesy. When I let him know I’m bringing a rather large party, I can practically hear the cash register sounds going off in his head.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” I ask Shelby. First porn, then the pussy patch, now a goddamn pussy palace. “Dating me is getting to be a tour in degeneracy isn’t it?”
She palms my cheek and reaches up on tiptoes to kiss me. “You said it was important. A favor to your president and your national president, right?”
“Yeah.” I’d had to at least tell her that much.
She cocks her head. “Would you want to go to strip clubs otherwise?”
“Want?” I consider carefully before answering. When I was eighteen, hell yeah. Couldn’t wait to get my horny ass inside a strip joint. “Working at different ones the club owns across the country kinda killed all my natural curiosity.”