Page 25 of Marx

Marx

I tear my gaze away from Lovely and the fire that is burning inside her to address my club. “So, we’re in agreement?”

“Burn them to the ground,” Ana growls, cuddling Jr in her lap.

Cheering breaks out and my shoulders relax a little. I didn’t realize how much tension I was holding until this moment. I knew the consensus sounded like they’d all be down to exact revenge, but having women and children in our care means we have to think about their wellbeing too. Luckily for me, our women are more bloodthirsty than we give them credit for.

“You’re gonna have a problem on your hands,” Mad Dog murmurs as he sidles up next to me.

“You mean other than the two fucking cartels and one sheriff on our ass?” I throw back.

He snorts, looking around the room, his eyes hovering on the women huddled in a group. “You can control your men, we all know that. Your biggest problem, besides the shit coming down on you, is that those women,” he tips his head in their direction, “they want blood, and they’ll do anything to get it.” He slaps me on the shoulder and throws his head back, laughing so hard his body shakes.

I really want to tell him to fuck off, but he’s right. I don’t appreciate his fucking mirth at my dilemma, so I slap my hand on his shoulder, and whisper in his ear, “In that case, I need a man I can trust. You’re on the women and Pops.”

My dad’s shocked gaze meets mine and the look on his face is priceless. I slap him once more and shove him in the direction of the group of misfits that I can already see are coming up with a plan. Knowing I need to nip that in the bud, I thump the wall again. Everyone settles down instantly. We need to get rid of our little problem as quickly as possible. If this shit drags on too long the women are liable to go rogue.

“Chewy! Give me the first idea that comes to mind on how to get us out of the shit,” I bark in her direction. She nods once, then I see her fingers tapping in the way they do when she’s thinking.

Everyone waits quietly to see what she comes up with. I may be the Pres, but as my father pointed out earlier, Chewy is the best we have at information, strategy and planning shit. I mean, sometimes it may not be a well defined plan, but they’re always diabolical and it’ll get us to our particular goal, which is wiping out the threat before it wipes us out.

She slowly moves her gaze around the room, her lips moving, every now and then her head bobbing side to side. She stares at Moss for a moment, before leaning over to Rhodie and murmuring something. They nod to each other and then she closes her eyes, fingers tapping faster and faster.

Her eyes fly open suddenly. “We’ll need to split up. Fight them on three different fronts.” She holds her hand up, stopping anyone from saying anything. “I know that we see our power as a collective, but that won’t work this time. We have people gunning for us from Texas and Louisiana. A coordinated hit on the same day, same time will be the best way to take them out.We hit one, they get word to the other and it becomes a shit storm.”

Savage nods in agreement. “It’s really the only way to stop them coming for us. Hit them when they’re meeting with their contacts stateside.”

“Ana, I’ll need Roman’s help,” Chewy states, typing madly on her laptop.

“Yeah, Roman has asked a favor.” I say, ignoring the groans from everyone around me. Fuck, I don’t want to do anything for Roman, but he’s helped us out twice in recent times, so we really owe him. Besides, it’s in his best interests. He was pissed when he found out his best friend was at the compound when it was hit. He may come across as a cold bastard, hell, anyone in a position of power does, it’s part of our persona, but I know he cares deeply for the people he calls family, and in this case, that’s Ana and her family.

“What the hell does he want now?” Flack grumbles.

“He wants any product the cartels have,” I answer. Eyebrows raise before Rider chuckles.

“He’s going to take over their drug business, huh? Fucking typical. As soon as we clean someone out, Roman comes swaggering in, waving his big Russian dick around.”

“Keep my man’s dick out of your mouth, thank you,” Sasha says in his accented voice.

“How in the fuck did you get here so fast? Wait, why are you here?” Rider says, ignoring the dick in the mouth comment.

“We were at a little cafe not far from here when Chewy messaged,” Roman answers with a smirk. “And I do love to wave my big Russian dick around.”

“Thanks for coming,” Chewy addresses Roman without looking at him. “What do you have for me?”

“I have the information, but this a, how do you say, symbiotic relationship, no?” Roman takes a seat in a recliner that Sniper vacated, choosing to move further near the back of the room.

Chewy stares at him blankly for a moment. “I’ve forwarded the chemical breakdown of the drugs both Cartel de Silencio and La Sombre Roja are dealing. In theory it won’t take much tweaking of their current stock to match yours.”

I shake my head. If we were one percenters then I’d definitely be doing what Roman has planned. Take over two cartels’ drug stock, tweak them to his recipe and then sell them on with fuck all outlay. He’s a criminal mastermind, and that’s without the rest of the shady shit I know he gets up to. I glance at him, his crisp suit and slicked back dark hair at odds with his fair skin. Eyes so dark as to almost look black, the dude gives creepy vampire vibes and you can’t tell me otherwise.

“Ah, Chewy, have I told you how much I enjoy working with you?” He grins at her and it makes him look even more like fucking Dracula. “You have two weeks to plan whatever it is you have planned. Both cartels like to deliver on the first of the month.”

“How dumb are these people?” Mira bursts out. “The first of the month? That’s just begging to be killed. Don’t they know you have to change up their movements, be all unpredictable so people like us-” she waves her arms around, “- don’t murder them? This exact thing happened in a book I wrote, where the dumb guys weren’t cartel, they were Bratva - sorry, Roman-” snickers break out around the room while Roman looks mildly offended, “The Bratva always do their drug drop on the same day, at the same time, from the same spot. My MC figured it out and then lay in wait. But they were evendumberthan that because not only did they have their drugs with them, but also the scientist guy who was working for them to keep his daughter safe. Obviously the Pres from the MC fell in love withthe daughter who it turns out is hot WITH a brain and they had some really amazing sex scenes in the back of the drug truck on the way to the compound.” Mira only stops talking because she runs out of breath.

We all stare at her, and I wonder if there’s more or if she’s done.

“Can I just say that the premise sounds fabulous, but the Bratva would never be that stupid,” Roman says, throwing Mira an odd look.

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