Page 121 of Beyond the Badge: Crew

“Not sure if I could pull it off. Plus, we don’t have any club colors for me to wear besides our own. And of course, that shit won’t fly.”

“You’ll go flying when they throw your ass out,” Reynolds said.

“If I walk into that bar wearing BAMC colors, I doubt I’ll only get tossed. I might not make it out alive.”

But,damn, they were giving him some decent options. Cabrera told the Demons she had an ol’ man named Throttle. A biker not affiliated with any club. Once again, he had to give her credit. That meant he could go there without wearing colors at all and it wouldn’t look suspicious.

He could easily go undercover as Throttle and do a surprise visit at Hawg Wild with the excuse of checking on his ol’ lady. That would establish his fake persona as possessive and protective of his woman. He could also have a little discussion with the manager and let the man know that he wasn’t happy about his woman coming home with bruises.

He was liking this idea more and more by the second.

However, he knew Cabrera would hate it. She wouldn’t be thrilled about him checking up on her.

“I mean… you could always pull her from the assignment if it’s giving you heartburn,” Decker suggested, watching him closely.

“He could,” Finn said, “but if we can prove that they’re dealing from that location, as well as using it to wash dirty money, the feds could add that business to the seizure list.”

“The more businesses they lose and the more of their members who end up behind bars, the sooner the Deadly Demons MC will come to an end,” Rez said. “Adiós, pendejos.”

“Let’s fucking hope there won’t be enough of them skating charges,” Torres grumbled.

“Or getting short sentences so they can rebuild as soon as they’re released,” Reynolds added.

Decker put in his two cents next. “I have no doubt they’ll rebuild. But when they do, they’ll still be on the feds’ radar. If they were smart, they’d stick to being asshole bikers and not mules or drug suppliers.”

Crew responded with, “But they’re far from smart and if they lose their drug connections, those dumbasses might get into running guns or sex-trafficking instead. A criminal organization like theirs will always find an easy way to make a lot of money.”

“Easy money doesn’t end up being so easy when you get caught,” Finn stated.

“Right and if they get into that other shit, the feds might form another task force to crush them all over again,” Crew said. “Whether it be the FBI or ATF.”

Torres muttered, “It’s an endless fucking cycle.”

“A cycle that needs to be broken,” Crew concluded on a sigh. “All right, I have some calls to make. If you need me, I’ll be downstairs.”

* * *

Fletch’s voicefilled Crew’s ear. “Well, hell, I was just about to call you, Motley Crew. What’s up?”

The more he thought about those bruises… What was up was his blood pressure. “Need a favor.”

“Can it wait until I tell you my news first?”

“Is it good news?” He needed some about now.

“Good enough that you might bust a nut over it,” Fletch warned.

“Hold on. Let me grab a sock to catch it in.” With his cell phone to his ear, Crew sank onto one of the couches in the BAMC’s church and propped his boots up on the center table. “Okay, I’m ready. Go.”

“Brace yourself. When you come, it’ll explode like a volcano.”

“Just tell me.”

Fletch chuckled and after a few seconds of silence, most likely to ramp up anticipation, he announced, “Viper’s letting me patch over.”

Crew shot up straight, plunking his boots back on the floor. “What?”

“Yeah. Surprised the hell out of me, too. I was at the point where I never thought it would happen.”

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