Page 4 of Klutch's Kryptonite

“So,” Beast says, setting his empty glass on the bar, “now that we’re officially a Saints charter, what’s next?”

Denali leans against the bar, his expression turning more serious. “Now we prove to them that we were worth the investment. We’ve got a shipment coming in next week from Onyx Beach.”

“Where the fuck is that?” Beast asks, confusion riddled over his face.

Undertaker pours himself another shot, answering absentmindedly. “California.”

I feel my lips turn up. As the road captain, we can always count on Undertaker to know where these random places are. The man is like a walking roadmap.

“Our days of only dabbling in only local business are over. These are the big leagues, boys.” Pee Wee grins.

“I guess now is as good of a time as any to call church,” Denali says as he walks around the bar and grabs a beer from the well.

“Give me one of those,” I say, bellying up to the bar. He hands me one then hands out a few more when Yukon, Pee Wee, and Beast hold out their hands.

“Alright, let’s go.”

I follow Denali and Pee Wee down the hall past the bathrooms and into the one room I haven’t been in yet. The chapel. Inside is a long wooden table that has been stained and sealed. It reminds me of a large piece of driftwood. Burned onto the center is our new logo. A skull wearing a crown with crossbones placed behind it. It’s the coolest shit I’ve ever seen.

“I know I keep saying this, but shit. They really thought of everything,” I say, eyeing the beautiful table and the screens that match the ones in Titan’s tech room upstairs. Just like in his room the entire property is laid out, every inch under surveillance.

“Right?” Beast says from beside me.

I nod because seriously. They have really thought of everything.

Denali takes his seat at the head of the table and we all follow suit, dropping into our own chairs. Titan hurries in last with a laptop tucked under his arm.

“Sorry. I got caught up with everything upstairs.” He shrugs.

“Nerdvana,” Yukon teases. Beast holds up his hand and Yukon slaps his palm against the big man’s hand. The two enforcers are always giving our tech man shit.

I guess it’s too much to hope they’d lay off since everything went down with the Renegade Bastards.

Titan flips them off, not bothered in the slightest by either Enforcer’s taunting.

“Okay,” Denali starts, drawing every man’s attention. “As I was saying. Our first shipment is coming from Onyx Beach. The merchandise will arrive at the funeral home. We’ll get the assets put into the transport containers–”

Beast and Yukon both start chuckling at the mention of transport containers. I feel my own lips twitching. The transport containers Denali is referring to are top of the line coffins Undertaker had custom made. They have a false bottom. It truly is the perfect setup. The odds of law enforcement, especially the DEA, pulling over a Hearse and asking to check the contents inside of a coffin are slim to none.

“–and get the truck back on its way to Rochester.”

“This shipment coming directly from the Cuban Cartel?” Pee Wee asks, looking rather uncomfortable in the chair he’s sittingin. At six-foot-four and two hundred and forty pounds of pure muscle, the man might as well be a giant.

Denali nods at his right hand man. “The very same. It’s our first official job as part of the distribution chain.”

“Better than trafficking women and children,” my father mutters, his jaw tightening at the memory.

A heavy silence falls over us all. It’s been nine months since Rogue laid out his plans to partner with the Valenciaga Cartel on a human trafficking operation. The promise of massive profits had tempted some, but when Denali stood up and called it what it was—pure fucking evil—the club fractured right down the middle.

I remember the fury in Rogue’s eyes when my father and I stood with Denali. The betrayal, the threats, the ultimatum. We could stay and participate, or we were out bad. Those were our choices. No biker ever wants to be exiled from his club, from his brothers. But there are lines some of us refuse to cross. And Rogue had drawn that line in the sand.

“We made the right call,” I say firmly, breaking the silence. “Rogue lost his fucking mind.”

“Lost his fucking mind, or showed his true colors?” Yukon questions with an arched brow. “The man was always a greedy fucker.”

Undertaker nods in agreement.

“Either way,” Denali interjects, “that’s behind us now. We’ve got a fresh start with the Saints, and they’ve put a lot of faith in us. It’s time to focus on the future.”

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