Page 32 of Tracking Luxe

He sighed loud enough to suck in the ceiling.

“I can see where your head's at, bro. We take it to the table and vote, if it goes your way we plan it backwards and forwards so those dipshits don’t even figure what’s happenin’, you with me on this?”

Rider was making sure Grinder knew the boss had spoken. “If we vote no, you tell your chick it’s a no go and to grab her little paintings some other way.” Something dark entered Rider’s voice and Grinder had to bite the inside of his cheek, something unequivocally protective slithered into his bloodstream wanting to keep Luxe’s name out of every male voice, even his prez’s.

And that was just irrational.

He’d brought this to Rider for the level-headed motherfucker he was. Rider could deliberate an idea inside out and know how best to deal with it that would bring theSoulsout on top. He had the Prez patch for a reason.

Only, the problem he was bringing to the table was Luxe and he didn’t like it one bit his brothers would discuss her.

He went silent for a minute.

“Okay. But I’m punching Snake if his mouth opens and says anything about jewelry heists.”

They left church with Rider laughing.

The table fell silent once Grinder got done explaining the dilemma.

Every patched in brother wearing the same worn-down leather cut as him with their designated patch on the front looked towards Grinder. His Adam’s apple worked as he caught Preacher’s eyes. He could almost hear what his closest friend was thinking;you out of your fucking mind, man?

Not a second later.

“The fuck you thinking about, G? Messing with the mob without provocation is asking for a pair of concrete boots. Jesus motherfucking Christ. I didn’t think you were that stupid.” Announced Preacher in his pissed off timber, the green of his eyes darkening as he tapped one of his silver skull rings to the table.

“I don’t know, Preach, I kinda like the idea of G going all Ocean’s Eleven.” Smirked Snake from down the other end of the table.Oh, you fucknut,Grinder glared with his own twitched grin. “He’d be that one always feeding his face.” Brothers laughed.

Tension straightened his spine. “They’re holding gatherings every night this week for select criminally minded folk to indulge in vodka and pussy, we were invited naturally, to grease the hands of the locals no doubt and to kiss Rider’s ass., They’re hoping we agree to a business deal.“

“You get all the fun, Prez.” Offered Pretty-boy.

“The idea is to send a representative, keep Grigori busy and to make theSoulspresence felt in the open, while I do my thing with Luxe.”

“I just bet you will.” The rusty accusation came from Lawless and Grinder tried really fucking hard not to let the guy bait him.

“We’ll be in and out-----”

Lawless scoffed. “Now he’s just feeding me lines.”

Grinder flipped him the middle finger without pausing and continued. “---- and once that’s done and she has her shit, I can take a look around, see if they’ve left anything incriminating on any flash drives. Fuck, even a memo pad will do, they’re all a bit backward from the cold country.”

“Big risk with no outcome of a pay-out for us, I didn’t know we were running a charity.” Sometimes, Grinder just really wanted to fucking punch Lawless.

“Why isn’t wonder boy Steele helping this chick out with this?”

Grinder shot his gaze down to Arson who had asked the innocent question, bones crushed under his skin biting back the retort about JamiefuckingSteele.She doesn’t belong to him, that’s why.

“It has nothing to do with the Apollo Kingsmen.”

“It has nothing to do with theSouls, either.” Preacher’s voice tight and accusing.

“Look. I’m alreadydoingthis for her, that’s not up for discussion, okay. What I’m bringing to the table is do we want to use this opportunity to see if I can gather something concrete we can use to kick those motherfuckers back to their mothership?” Irritation sliced through Grinder’s speech. He could hear it and yet there was no stopping the way he sounded like a jealous boyfriend. He loved these knuckle-dragging monkey’s, but their all-knowing scrutiny piercing him with eyeballs from every corner was yawning a hole like acid through his stomach lining.

Critical eyes stayed on him. Burn.Burn. The hole increasing.

“Do we get a profit of her steal?” Asked Texas.

“No.”

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