Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“Rowdy told me all about it. Sounds like freedom to me after livin’ the last five fuckin’ years in a fuckin’ cage.”
“He tell you how much it’s gonna suck?”
Decker chuckled. “Yeah. Know it. Can’t be worse than bein’ behind bars.”
“You’d be wrong,” Viper said. “Inside, you got screws protectin’ you. Out here, we don’t even got your back ’til you’re handed your patches and are one of us. If you make it that far. ’Til then, you’re nobody. You’re a part of the club but ain’t a part of the club, if you get my meanin’.”
“Got it.”
“Not sure you do. Most don’t. Most prospects start out strong, then decide this shit ain’t for them. It ain’t worth it. They run home to Mommy.”
“Ain’t gonna run home to my mommy. Rowdy assured me any shit I gotta eat’s gonna be worth it.”
Viper shot Rowdy a look. “Guess we weren’t rough enough on him, then.”
“Bah,” Rowdy huffed. “Just ain’t a pussy.”
The Demons president reached out and wiped his finger behind Rowdy’s ear. “Still wet back there. You willin’ to put your ass on the line to sponsor him?”
“Fuck yeah,” Rowdy said with confidence. “Never woulda brought him tonight if I wasn’t.”
Viper took a hit from the joint, and while he held the smoke deep down in his lungs, he stroked his long beard, once again staring at Decker.
Maybe he was trying to get Decker to break. He made sure to meet the Demon’s eyes and not look away.
“Anyway,” Rowdy started, “at the last meetin’ you mentioned gettin’ more prospects for both Uniontown and New Philadelphia.”
“Yeah?” Viper spat on the ground.
Decker didn’t react. He acted like he was used to people spitting at his feet.
“Yeah. Or did I hear wrong?”
Viper turned his attention back to Rowdy. “Didn’t hear wrong.”
Rowdy slapped Decker’s chest. “Then Jake here’s gonna be perfect for Uniontown.”
Viper squinted at Rowdy. “Why’s that?”
“‘Cause he’s shackin’ up with some bitch near there.”
The prez’s head swung back toward Decker. “You got an ol’ lady?”
He shook his head. “Nah. She ain’t my ol’ lady. Just a slit I’m fuckin’. Keeps a roof over my head, food in my gut and my dick wet.”
“They ain’t worth much more than that.” Viper sucked loudly on what teeth he had remaining. “Alright. Gonna think about it. Will let you know, brother. But remember,” Viper leaned in and jabbed Rowdy’s chest with his index finger, “that means it’s your ass on the fuckin’ line if he fucks up.”
Rowdy stood his ground and gave the DDMC president a single nod. “Aware of that. He ain’t gonna fuck up.”
Viper took a step back, dropped his bearded chin to his chest and gave Rowdy a warning look. “Better fuckin’ hope not.”
There was a lot more said in that look and behind those words than hit Decker’s ears. He figured it had to do with their drug enterprise.
This club was not simply a brotherhood that lived a biker lifestyle, they wanted to build an empire.
One that the Tri-State Federal Drug Task Force wanted to crush before it was done being built.
After the prez wandered away and was out of earshot, Rowdy turned to Decker. “Don’t fuck up.”
He thought he was a smart guy.
Now Decker questioned that, among other things, as he pulled his borrowed ’84 Harley-Davidson Softail up to the Deadly Demons’ church in Moundsville, WV. Rowdy called him two days ago and told him that to become a prospect, it needed to go before the Demons’ officers for a vote.
That vote was happening quicker than any of them expected.
The front lot was full of Harleys, both older and newer. If the number of bikes equaled the number of Demons inside, then he’d be walking into a lion’s den while wearing a meat suit.
He shut down the bike and sat staring at the old car dealership. It was a hell of a lot bigger than the gas station in Uniontown, that was for damn sure. Actually, it was a lot larger than he expected.
The glass windows in what would’ve been the original showroom had been replaced with brick. Probably for good reason. He had no idea if the Demons had enemies, but if they didn’t before, they might now due to them expanding their territory.
And bullets meeting glass could be deadly. A fact they considered when his own MC renovated The Plant. Plus, not having windows kept whatever was happening inside their church hidden from curious eyes.
A barb-wire-topped chain-link fence with solid plastic slats extended out from both corners of the large brick structure and then encircled the rear of the property ensuring even more security and privacy.
While the sprawling building itself was pretty nondescript, the number of Harleys and the huge Demons logo painted on the front gave the building’s purpose away.
Like the gas station in Uniontown, the Demons weren’t hiding the fact that this was their church and this area was their territory. A not-so-subtle warning to other MCs and maybe even nomads.