Page 57 of Prince Charming

At that age, Tag wanted to be settled somewhere quiet, beer, cigars, and his woman around him. Maybe a few kids and talking about the glory days. Not plotting like he was Dastardly and Mutley.

Rex had a screw loose that much was clear. Because he was becoming a bore and an irritant to theSouls, the fuckwit had to be stopped.

TheSoulshad all but bankrupted Rex’s businesses. Undercutting his suppliers, breaking bread with Rex’s foes. Little did Rex know, Rider sneaked a mole into his house. Every few weeks, their prospect, Juicy, headed to Austin and fed strategic info to Rex about the club. They got a kick out of that old fucker lapping it up like candy. When he thought Rider was investing in coke, he got there first and lost a cool 200k. When he was told Rider was buying car washes, he got there first and bought them for ten times their worth.

Rex’s ego was fucking himself in the ass. Hating not having the gavel. Hating Rider more for being the better Prez.

Tag was gonna enjoy playing a role in putting the last nail in Rex’s economic coffin.

The Russian mob had proven to be adequate foes.

Rex Marinos was a pitiful cakewalk in comparison.

“Ready to do your part, Tag?”

Tag half-grinned, rapping his calloused knuckles on the tabletop. “If I could charm my way into the panties of a Victoria’s Secret model with a chastity oath, Prez, being friendly to one old dipshit isn’t gonna break me out in a sweat.”

His brothers snickered.

“Long as you don’t get intohiscrusty drawers,hermano.” Shuddered Capone.

Capone’s role in the club as Sergeant at Arms was different to Tag’s.

Tag was club security.

On any lockdown, Tag was the first man to see order was executed. Making sure all members were accounted for, and old ladies and significant others were brought to the club. Capone’s SAA role meant he dealt with any in house beef among the patched members. He knew the lay of the land of any other neighboring MC and relayed it to the Prez and VP. If any member stepped out of line, or broke their bylaws, Capone could bring it up to the Prez for a vote on stripping the patch. The pair worked well alongside each other.

Tag had mad respect for his brother, despite his shocking taste in music. But the guy could cook like a five-star chef.

Tag flipped Capone the middle finger.

“I’d get in your tighty whities first, fucker.” He retorted.

“Can’t do that,papi. I don’t wear ‘em.”

He enjoyed these meetings when they got shit done.

Letting Rex come to town wasn’t to show theSoulsbeing pushovers.

Feeble and old, Rex still had an ear to the ground and knew firsthand how the club got rid of theBratva. Proving the ex-prez didn’t have a smart brain cell in that head of his if he was still hard to steal the MC back. He couldn’t trot his fat-ass into town fast enough, smirking about getting one over on Rider. So he thought.

Rider had a plan, and theSoulswere following it.

A man like Rex, who valued his self-inflated status, was nothing without it.

It wasn’t enough to take the man’s life. Where was the fun in that? Especially for a bottom feeder like Rex Marinos. The guy needed a special send off.

Rider wanted to buckle him.

You don’t fuck with theSoulsand live to cackle over it with a glass of malt whiskey.

The meeting broke up. The brothers went their own ways.

Tag’s stomach demanded filling, so he ambled to the kitchen. When he had his mouth full of minted lamb and pitta bread, he pulled out his phone.

Like an addict, he needed to check in with Marianna several times a day if he couldn’t be at his gym. He never planned to be a hands-on boss. Ever since he took her under his wing, he’d been in that office more times than he could count.

He enjoyed being near in case she needed him.

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