“Appreciate that boss but I’ve got the money and I want to be the one who pays,” I insisted.
“You got a quarter of a million dollars just hanging around?” Pipe questioned.
“Ever hear of Montgomery Oil?” I asked the club, glancing over at Bones who shook his head.
I never wanted the club to know where I came from, mainly because if they knew the truth they probably wouldn’t have patched me in. I was the heir to a fortune, a spoiled brat who turned his back on his family and their millions to be a fucking criminal. It was the shit FX movies were made of. To be fair though, my family wasn’t worth my piss, they didn’t give a damn about me. I was just a dick that would carry their name and hopefully produce more dicks for them. Long live the Montgomery’s and all their glory. Bullshit.
My mother reached out to me a couple of times after I left, only because my old man cut her off. It didn’t matter that they were divorced, that she had been re-married three times since their divorce, Robert Montgomery owned that bitch with a fat checking account. She jumped at his command. When he told her to reign me back in or he’d cut her flow of money, she tried her damnedest to be the doting, loving mother she never was when I needed one. Fuck her too.
I didn’t need them or their money.
Montgomery was a name inked to a piece of paper.
Riggs was a name I chose for myself and the Satan’s Knights was the name of the family I chose.
I may not need them or want them but I took what was mine to take. What I fucking earned. Twenty-one years I gave them fuckers, being the son they pawned on babysitters and hired help. I deserved every dollar of that trust fund.
They could keep their fucking empire.
I was sitting at the table of a different kind of empire.
One where family mattered.
“What about it?” Jack asked.
I lifted my hips, pulling my wallet out from my back pocket and took out my license, throwing it onto the table.
Pipe reached out and lifted it up to his eyes.
“Fucking ay!” He hissed, handing it over to Jack. “Got ourselves a rich one, don’t reckon ever having one of those before,” he mused.
Jack looked at me for a moment, meeting my stare before his eyes dropped to the name on my license.
“I’ve got the money,” I repeated, causing him to lift his eyes to me. “Give me a day to pull it all out and then set up the meet with Wu.”
“You realize that you might be pissing away your daddy’s hard earned cash, don’t you? Ain’t no guarantee meeting Wu’s demands will make him go away,” Jack enlightened. “The last time the Knights and the Dragons were at war there was a whole lot of bloodshed across these streets and all the money in the world wouldn’t have made it disappear.”
“I’ve been pissing on my father since I walked away from him,” I declared, slapping my palm against the wooden table. “It’s the least I can do, man.”
Jack stared at me long and hard. He could tell me to take my money and shove it up my ass but tomorrow morning I’d go to Wu myself and pay the clubs debt off, with or without them behind me. His words rang in my ears, the promise of more shit heading our way because of my mistake, and I realized I would do whatever I had to, to keep this shit at bay.
“Fine,” he said finally. “Get the money.” He tore his eyes from me and looked at Wolf. “Get that meeting set up.”
“You got it, boss,” Wolf agreed.
“Good,” I said. “What happens next?”
“We wait,” Jack said. “This club needs to make as much money as possible to fund our asses when Wu comes calling again, and mark my words that bitch will call,” he continued. “We’re going to need all the ammo and all the allies we can get,” he added. “With Blackie still in the hospital, I will reach out to the Corrupt Bastards myself and see if we can work something out with them. They’ve carried us before, if the deal is sweet enough they’ll do it again. I’m heading up to see Vic next week, finish up this shit with Gold and feel him out for who’s got the power now. If his organization has any life left I’ll make sure they’re in our pocket, ready to roll when the storm blows through.”
“Look around, Jack, this club ain’t ready for a war. We’ve barely got a pulse right now,” Pipe cautioned. “Our vice president is on a methadone drip trying to get clean. We need more men, another charter or something. The only reason we’re still standing is because Bianci and Val’s kid pitched in with the Gold situation.”
“You think I don’t know that? You think I’m fucking blind?” Jack roared. “But I ain’t bowing down to no Dragon and neither is this club,” he spat. “So protect your interests, hold tight to those you love and make it count because we’re living on borrowed time.”
Those were his final words before he adjourned our meeting, final words that had a whole lot of meaning. One of the prospects had fixed up my bike, and I didn’t need Bones to drive me back home.
Home. What a joke.
My home was here at the Dog Pound, away from Lauren.