“Led and I thought we’d come early and check out South Dakota,” Nina said. “You’re late. You were supposed to be here yesterday.”
“Took my time on the road, is all.” Butler gave her a quick kiss and tracked back to his Harley, snapping open saddlebags, unclipping cords, grabbing an empty water bottle, his longish blond hair in his face.
“What the hell are you doing here, Butler?” Jump asked.
I moved forward. “Why don’t we take this inside?”
“What I’m trying to lay out for you here is that Notch and his Broken Blades declared war on you months ago in so many small ways, and he’s made inroads, even with his sources depleted. We need to deal with it, and, Jump, you don’t have the manpower to ante up. I just bumped into one of his boys on the road, and let’s just say, he wasn’t happy to see me.”
“Fuck no,” I muttered.
Butler was holding court at the big table. It had only been a year or so since he was last invited to sit with us, but it felt like much longer to me. He was here, he was sober, he was trying to get back in.
He folded his hands, his jaw set. “I had to make sure he understood that fucking with me and the Jacks was not an option.”
Kicker, our Vice President, and Dready exchanged glances. Lock and Bear visibly tensed.
Butler leaned in toward Jump. “You think about that.”
Jump only dragged his fingers through his gray-streaked beard.
“The Broken Blades have fallen on low times,” continued Butler. “They’ve been making enemies out of old friends, especially the Flames. Their income has tanked, and they’ve been losing members and chapters.”
“At least two that I’ve heard of have shut down,” said Kicker.
“Right, and now Notch, their esteemed president, is desperate to hang on to his club’s traditional territory,” added Butler.
I lit another cigarette. “Parts of Nebraska and Wyoming.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t look good,” Butler said. “And Notch isn’t happy with the circling vultures.”
Jump folded his hands on the table. “Notch hasn’t been happy for decades. Tell me something new.”
Butler dragged on his cigarette. “Now that his club is outnumbered, he’s been trying to recruit.”
“And who’s panting over his territory?” Jump’s bulky shoulders rose, making his neck seem shorter than it actually was. “Let me guess. Finger and his Flames of Hell?”
“Makes sense,” I said. “They’re both in Nebraska, both border each other, and both have different alliances. The Flames could swallow them up real easy and get rid of an adversary.”
“And spit out the bones.” Jump leaned back in his thick leather chair, his eyes on Butler. “What’s this really all about? You want to stay?”
“I want to be a part of this club again. Yes.”
“Why should I care about what you want?”
“I’m bringing you new blood to the table.”
Jump’s huge shoulders rolled again. “How so?”
“I can bring you a connection to one of the largest outlaw clubs in this country,” said Butler.
“You been playing in the sandbox with other clubs again, you sneaky fuck?”
“That ain’t the way of a nomad, Jump. I only take orders from the Jacks’ national prez.”
Holding Butler’s hard stare, Jump took in a long breath and slowly released it. “Have you now? Well, you know I’ve never been interested in that sort of connection.”
“This way—”
“You mean, your way?” spit out Jump.
“I’m talking about an MC network with the Flames of Hell. And no, the Jacks won’t be the underdog satellite to a bigger national club or the lackey to some big-city mobsters or a Mexican cartel. We have the opportunity to create a pipeline from the East Coast through the Midwest and the Great Plains with other clubs who share our philosophy.”
“The Flames are big, man. They’ve got plenty of mob ties,” said Dready.
“They do, but not to all their businesses or all their territories. It wouldn’t have to touch us, not directly. We do our thing out here, keep the trade flowing. They get access to our product, high-quality tried-and-true product, and we get greater and easier distribution.”
“Percentages?” asked Kicker.
“Negotiable.”
“And what do they want from us in our territory?” I asked.
“Money-laundering to start and slowly introducing their product through our channels out West.”
Jump’s face tightened.
“It’s a form of stability, Jump. An opportunity to form something new. I know about the Blades cutting off your route to Texas. The Colorado Jacks are barely holding on.”
“I’m handling it!”
“Are you?”
“You challenging me?”