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I promised to take Shannon shopping for back-to-school, but I’ve had to cancel. She’s asked when she can see me again, and I can’t give an answer. This means are were tears, and then a tongue lashing from my sister, who tells me for the umpteenth time that I need to leave the club and get into something less dangerous. She tells me she didn’t sign up to raise my kid for me and while she loves Shannon, she feels that Shannon needs her dad right now.
After that fun little interaction, I spend the morning in my office, power-drinking coffee and sorting through various reports from my guys. Dexter pops in, asking if I’m feeling any better.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I grunt in response. “I wasn’t sick.”
“You just seemed ... heightened ... last night. Well, for a while now, really. But especially last night,” he says.
“I’m fine, but I’m not kidding when I say this bullshit side business has to stop,” I answer. “Jackson reported that three guys had a whole side deal with the Juarez family last month. They literally finished our pickup, then walked away to do another deal. What the fuck is that?”
“Spree’s got a few guys running extras. Pills, mostly, some coke. They get enough to sell in a month and split the profit,” Dexter says. “The guys think you’re okay with it.”
“Why the fuck would they think that?” I snap.
“Spree’s got ’em convinced this is the way things are in a club,” Dexter says, shrugging his skinny shoulders. “I wouldn’t know, as I never been in one but this.”
I eyeball this guy. He doesn’t look like much and is shit in a fight, but he’s loyal. I need more of him, more guys willing to question things, willing to tell me when things aren’t right, or when he has a bad feeling about something.
I don’t need guys doing side deals, taking extra cuts, and treating club property like it’s their own. For one, it makes me look like a weak leader, like I don’t know what the fuck my guys are doing. It makes our partners think they can pull the wool over my eyes, cheat me on business. Second, once a faction of idiots decides to start a little side gig, others follow. And then I’ve got a bunch of assholes thinking they can challenge me for leadership, or territory, or whatever.
It hasn’t always been like this. There was a time when we operated like a well-oiled machine. We rode, we partied, we made deals, we expanded our reach. We made a shit-ton of money. All of us benefited.
Now, since Spree’s gone off the range, things have descended into chaos. And I need to get that shit back in order before I lose everything.
*
