Tank tipped his chair back on two legs and locked his hands behind his head. “Two of Flannigan’s men were gunned down at that deal. Let’s see… one was dating Fire’s ex-wife, and the other one was Hangman—a former Jagged Outlaw from the Skull presidency, and you,” —he smiled at Hammer— “were the one who was instrumental in getting him thrown out.”
“Don’t fuckin’ disrespect me! Who the fuck do you think you are?” Hammer screamed, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth.
“I’m just reporting the facts.”
Hammer’s face distorted with anger. “There are no fuckin’ facts!”
“You keep up your shit—you’ll be the next one to turn in your cut,” Cougar said.
“If this shit’s not true, then why all the fuckin’ drama?”
“I don’t need to tell you shit,” Hammer gritted out through clenched teeth.
Grid rapped his fingers on the table. “What Tank’s saying is what everyone’s saying.”
Another Hammer supporter catching on. I guess they’re not all dumbasses. Tank kept his gazed fixed on the VP as the room exploded with anger, frustration, and surprise. Hammer opened his mouth to speak, but apprehension washed over his features before he took a step forward and picked up the gavel.
The sound of wood on wood quieted the room. A bitter smile twisted Hammer’s lips as he raised his arms, gesturing everyone to sit down.
“I don’t know what happened at the arms deal because I wasn’t there, but I give you my word, I’ll look into it. The members will be informed about the incidents, and I’ll reach out to our MC friends and see if they know something that can help me assess the situation. If the club is at fault, we’ll own it. If not, then we’ll make sure the MC world knows it.”
Lying sack of shit.
Lingering grumbles circulated around the room. The tension in the air was so thick, Tank could cut it with his knife.
“Let’s move on to the protection money.” Hammer looked to Cougar. “Is everyone paying?”
“Yeah. But Tank seems to have a thing with the sweet cheeks who owns the restaurant.”
Anger burned through him. Tank clenched his fists and sat rigid.
Hammer turned his attention to Tank. “Is what Cougar saying true?”
Fuming, Tank glowered.
“I’m gonna take that as a yes. What you do with that sweet piece can’t interfere with club busines. You’ll pick up the collections in Imperial Beach instead of Main Street.”
A satisfied smirk curved the corners of Cougar’s mouth.
“Has anybody moved out yet?” Hammer asked.
“Except for the dry cleaner, the other tenants are holding strong,” Cougar told him.
A frown etched into Hammer’s face. “Fitzgerald’s not gonna like that. We’ll charge more.”
Rubble laughed. “Or we could do more fire displays like at the dry cleaners.”
“Breaking windows works—those are right at the deductible, so the vendors feel the financial pinch,” Tugboat said.
Hammer nodded. “That would work. Sheriff Windsor’s in Fitzgerald’s pocket, so we won’t have any trouble there. We need to do whatever it takes.”
“After they leave, Fitzgerald’s got a multimillion dollar property, and we’ve got shit,” Fire noted. “He’s paying us ten percent, but the protection money is ongoing.”
Cougar nodded. “That’s why we’re spreading out. We’ve setup shop in Imperial Beach, and there’ll be others to follow.”
The only ones discussing the extortion deal with Hammer and Cougar were the VP’s allies, while the other members sat there, their features tight. It took all of Tank’s willpower not to hurl a chair at Hammer when he talked about Lena, Gus, and the other citizen business owners.
“I can’t wait to take these fuckers down,” Maniac whispered to Tank.
“Yeah.”
The rest of church was a blur, since Tank’s mind was only on Lena. I’m not gonna let them take another dime from her. I’m putting a stop to it. And the way Cougar had gone on about the sexy restaurant owner, he knew it was only a matter of time before the slimebag tried something with her. That thought caused a white-hot burn deep in the pit of his stomach.
The gavel hitting the table brought Tank back to the moment. Metal chairs scraping against the floor, footsteps shuffling, and voices murmuring bounced off the concrete walls as the members filed out of the room.
“You gonna stay for a beer?” Maniac asked.
Tank nodded. “Yeah. Church blew.”
“Don’t get me started.”
They walked into the main area and went over to the bar. The prospect had two bottles of craft beer on the counter in a flash. Tank picked his up and took a deep swallow.
“Was Cougar talking out of his ass about the restaurant owner?” Maniac asked, bringing the bottle to his lips.
“He’s an asshole.” Tank put a foot on the rail and leaned against the bar top.
“So there’s nothing? I mean, you’ve been scarce around here, and a no-go with the club girls. That’s not like you.”
“My mom’s sick.”
“She was sick a few months ago.”
Cougar sauntered over to the bar with a club girl in tow. Picking up a shot of Jack, he threw it back, then kissed the girl while rubbing against her.
The anger burning through Tank during church hadn’t dissipated. He drained his beer and put it on the counter.
“I’ll be back,” he told Maniac. “There’s something I gotta do.”
Tank walked over to Cougar and pulled him away from the startled woman.
“What the—”
Cutting off Cougar’s sentence, Tank’s balled fist collided with his jaw, knocking his head back like a willow caught in the wind.
He stumbled backward, grabbing his jaw. “What the fuck?” he yelled as he regained his balance. “You goddamn asshole.” A vicious ferocity radiated through Cougar’s dark eyes. He lunged forward and connected a quick jab to Tank’s jaw before battering him with both fists. Tank shoved him away, smashed a left to Cougar’s head, and then a right. As Cougar tried to evade the next punch, Tank jumped, spun around, and kicked him in the side of his head. Cougar collapsed to the floor.
From the corner of his eye, Tank saw the members gathering. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and took the shot of bourbon Ice handed him.
The club girl knelt down beside Cougar and wiped his bloody face with a damp washcloth.
“Oh, baby,” she cooed.
Ice laughed. “Molly better look for another member to have fun with tonight.”
Tank downed the drink, wincing as the bit of alcohol came in contact with his split lip.
Maniac gripped Tank’s shoulder. “Yeah, you got something going with the restaurant chick.” That made Tank laugh. “But the SOB’s had it coming for a while. You gotta show me how to do that kick.”
“Twenty-one years of Taekwondo will do it. I’ve shown you some of the beginning moves before.”
“I keep forgetting to use them. I’m better with my fists.”
“What the fuck happened?” Hammer growled as he marched toward Tank and his friends.