Bed of Roses by Harley McRide Read Free Book Online

consider family.
    The top floor of the casino had been reserved for the important club meetings, or Rumbles. Out of town they owned a club house that was used for the easy shit and parties. Once an old hotel that dated back in the 1800s, the space had been totally gutted and remodeled to a modern mansion of sorts with all of the bells and whistles. For a group so rough and rowdy, the place was a total contradiction. It housed over three hundred, supplying rooms and a full kitchen for entertaining for not only themselves but other visiting chapters and allied clubs. There was a bar area and multiple furnished hang out rooms far enough out of the public eye the rough and rowdy crowd could live it up.
    All of their locations had the top of the notch security, but the casino offices had the most. When he walked in, the others were already starting to gather. Rugger, one of the patched members, tossed him a beer. “Hey, P, how’d things go at the Pit last night?”
    “The juice was thick, bro. Triple what last week brought in.” The ‘juice’ that he referred to was the club’s earnings off interest from money loaned for the bets, and from bets themselves. So far, the after dark underground fights had managed to bring in more than the regular MMA fights that were held in two short months. With the extra money came extra problems. Besides the normal shakedowns and collecting, drugs had begun to pop up. There was no doubt the same scumbags who were selling on every street corner within a hundred mile radius was responsible. They had taken it personally when the Mexican fucks stepped up on their toes and had been running clean up to get rid of them. Like cockroaches, you could snuff out a few, but the little bastards kept multiplying. It was time to up the forces.
    “Okay, I’d like to call Rumble to order. First thing we need to go over is Chief’s daughter, Lisa. Lisa has been hospitalized from the bad smoke she picked up on our streets. Tell me what the fuck is wrong with that.”
    "One of our own getting hurt from someone on our turf, P,” Prospect Brent volunteered.
    “Right. One of our own has been hurt on our land. This shit is unacceptable. I want these muther fuckers gone, like yesterday. Take them out with any force necessary. I have an inside source who has the same perspective as we do about this little infestation. Same shit going on there. We have an opportunity to combine forces and take the leader out and end this all.” He waited for questions, knowing that any talk of working with someone on the outside would be worthy of discussing. The Savages trusted no one. Some of the other clubs shared a mutual respect, and had often asked for the Savages’ help from time to time. Trust wasn’t to be confused with respect. However, Tonto trusted this particular group a little more than one of their own allies.
    “What patch do they wear?” Twelve Gage, one of the clubs patched members, asked.
    “The Ops Warriors.”
    “How well are you willing to put our rep on the line that they are legit?” Zeus, another patch named for his love of electrocuting, quizzed.
    “Enough to know we share the same enemy. Mr. Stands lost to us at the casino gambling and we called in his marker, threatening to take his daughter as payment, he had given her over without a second thought because he evidently made the same deal with the Diablos. Nothing like the love of a father more worried about his own hide. Anyway, the girl, Freedom, took off and we put those feelers out trying to locate her to put pressure on him to pay. Rumor has it she showed up at the Ops Warriors and they've taken a liking to her, which places the Diablos on their doorstep too. We may have used the girl as a threat, but I don't think those slimy fuckers were, they were promised the girl and they will collect her. The Warriors know that and we know that, making both our clubs indirectly involved with the 'coke camels'.
    "The drug trafficking has never been a