Page 17 of The Devil's Revelation
I frown. “What are you talking about?”
He shrugs. “She’s a gorgeous woman, and she’s also the exact type you seem to like.”
“I’m not thinking with my dick,” I snap, irritated that he would even consider it. “She was qualified, and even though I was a complete ass, I figured that out. Are you sure Mom’s not rubbing off on you or something?”
Dad rolls his eyes. “Your mother wants you all to be happy, and you know it. Me, I figure that eventually you’ll all find a woman, but if it never happens, so be it. At least this way, if she’s not working here, your path to her is free and clear if you want it to be.”
A thought that has crossed my mind many times, sure, but I’m still not sure I’ll ever act on it. I don’t say that though, instead answering, “Are you just here to piss me off or was there something you actually needed to talk to me about?”
“Two birds, one stone,” he smirks, which quickly drops away when he says quietly, “Word on the street is that Dmitri was spotted around town. Fucker hasn’t left, or if he did, he’s back already.”
Dmitri Norikov is part of the Russian Mob, and has been digging his dirty little fingers into our town. Apparently a lot longer than we thought. He’s ruthless, and tried to kill Sage after she took a picture of him. He even put a mole in our clubhouse, but we took care of that problem as soon as we found out who it was. Which is exactly why we’re not all that trusting of prospects. The mole? Matthew, a prospect that made friends with one of the club girls and who gave him a good word.
Needless to say, that club girl, Lani, was gone quick enough. No telling if she was involved, but we don’t need any more moles coming in.
“You think he’s up to something else?”
Dad nods. “We’ll discuss it in Church, but I have a feeling in my gut this is only the beginning, and we need to be ready.”
I agree with him. When Dad leaves, I head out into the garage to lose myself in an engine rebuild I’ve been working on for a couple of days. Thankfully this isn’t a job the customer needs rushed so I can take my time. I need to clear my head before Church, which knowing my father, will be called tonight or tomorrow. Hopefully I can add some thoughts to the discussion.
There is nothing like working on something and knowing that when I’m done, it’s going to run better than before. Some might call me cocky, but I’ve been working on bikes and cars since I was a kid. Dad let me help him when he was working on his bike in the garage when I was five. Sure, I was only handing him tools and asking him a crap ton of questions, but he was always patient with me.
When I got old enough to actually help him, I fell in love. Thankfully I have a family that recognized it and helped me nurture those skills until I was able to go away to school and take classes when I turned eighteen. I hated school, but this… this was a love that I put up with that shit so that I graduated within two years and came home.
By the time I was twenty-five, we had the garage up and running, and now I am charge of it and have figured out how to make it profitable and well known. Hell, I have people that bring their muscle cars or bikes from all over the state, and even a few beyond, to have us work on it. Because we have a reputation of good work and not over charging.
Between the garage, construction company, security company, and bars, the club is doing damn good business, and I’m happy I can help contribute. We also employ the brothers so they have a guaranteed job. It’s a full circle, family operation, and that’s just how I want it.
“Hey, Torque,” Timber says as he makes his way over to me halfway through the afternoon. “Rose says there’s some guy on the phone about that part you ordered?”
I look over at him in confusion. “What part?”
He shrugs. “I’m just the messenger.” Then he walks back over to his bay, humming and singing under his breath. I narrow my eyes at his back. Timber is what we like to call the jokester of the club. Well, him and Twigs. Timber is one of two African-American brothers, though he keeps his hair cut military style short, even after all the years he’s been out. Viper, our other brother, wears his in long dreads, and the two couldn’t be more opposite if you tried.
Not to mention, Timber has that Louisiana accent going for him that drives the women at the clubhouse crazy. Hell, I’ve seen Mom melt a few times when he turns that shit on to get himself out of whatever trouble he caused.
I grab a rag, wipe my hands, and head into my office to take the call. Turns out it’s the warehouse in Chicago that I ordered a part from for the car I’m currently working on. By the time I’m done, I’m cursing a blue streak. “Fuckers,” I snarl under my breath.
“Problem?” my brother Stone’s voice asks from the doorway. I look up and see him and King standing there, grinning.
“What the fuck is this, family day?” I ask irritably. “Dad’s been here, Mom’s here, now you assholes are here. All I’m missing are your women.”
“Don’t have one,” Stone reminds me as they step inside.
I smirk at him. “Not what I heard,” I taunt. There have been no secrets that Sage is trying to set Syn up with Stone, and both of them are resisting. Hard. As in, if they are in the same room, they don’t even look at each other. Which, of course, means that we bug the shit out of him about her.
He scowls at me. “You fuckers need to find a new hobby.” Then he looks at King. “And you need to get your woman in line.”
“Have you met her?” King scoffs. “That woman doesn’t do shit unless she wants to. I even heard Syn tell her to cut it out, but she’s like Ebony and Loki with a damn bone. And you’ve seen those two demons latch onto those things.”
Yeah, if there’s one thing that unnerves me, it’s those two hell hounds. Hell, one time, Loki was at the clubhouse and he walked right up to me then stared me down until I gave him some of my food. There was no begging. It was more of a silent promise of pain if I didn’t give in.
“I heard you got shot down again by the hot female mechanic,” Stone says, purposely changing the subject.
“Shouldn’t you two be working?” I point out.
“That’s the best part of being the bosses,” King replies with a grin. “We can come and go as we please.”
