Page 46 of Sanction

“Denver.” Maverick answered. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

It was Sheriff Denver. He only called when it was important. It put a bad feeling in my gut.

“Maverick. I’m giving a courtesy call.” He spoke with a stern voice, but Denver has always been in our pocket.

“What is it?” Maverick asked.

“Feds got a tip that you are running drugs out of Lace. Got it stored in one of the back rooms. An informant says it’s up in the ceiling.”

“You know that’s bullshit,” I spat.

“Well, it’s above my pay grade now. You didn’t hear from me, but they’re raiding at 11:00, so if you need to get shit handled, you better do it now.” Denver hung up before we could ask any more questions.

“Fuck,” Maverick growled before dialing another number.

“Prez,” Ivan answered.

“Ivan, I need you to go the back hallway, last room. Feds were tipped we’re dealing. I need the place swept.”

“Shit…we aren’t dealing Prez I swear.” Ivan was moving. I could hear a door slam in the background. “I’m in the room, I don’t see anything.”

“Check the corner closet. Also, I want you to check the ceiling tiles.”

Some racket rang out through the phone followed by some grunts from Ivan. “What the fuck!” Ivan shouted.

“Ivan,” Maverick growled.

“There’s fucking cocaine in the ceiling!”

“How much?” I asked.

“I don’t know, kilos are stacked four layers deep.”

“Son of a bitch. We gotta get that shit out, Ivan. Feds are coming in at 11:00.” Maverick stood from the table. “We are on the way. Don’t touch it. Do not let the girls, or anyone in that room. Got it?”

“Alright.”

Maverick hung up the phone and we were out the door. “Widow, Romeo, Tank!” I yelled. “Let’s go!”

They jumped off their stools and followed us out to the bikes. They didn’t ask questions, or even bat an eye. That’s what brotherhood looks like. Having your back without any inclination of what’s to come. Loyalty.

Before I took off on my bike, I shot a text to Dice. I told him some shit was going down and for him to let Dani know I would be back later. Finding out they didn’t sleep together has slightly lowered my irritation towards him. He’s a good kid, but he still better keep his fucking hands to himself.

When we arrived at Lace, it was still busy. A few girls decorated the poles and the tables were full of drunk business men who were spending all that hard earned money on a pair of fake tits.

Ivan met us at the bar. “What the hell is going on Maverick?”

“You tell me Ivan.” Maverick stormed passed him.

Ivan’s short legs were working double time to keep up.

“Make sure the girls are occupied please, last thing we need is stripper looking to cash in,” Maverick growled over his shoulder. “Dom, stay out here while I check it out.”

I nodded and stopped at the end of the bar. I glanced around the room and spotted Widow over by the bathrooms. He was talking to a woman with long dark hair. She was in a short skirt, holding a tray in her hand, so she must be one of the cocktail waitresses. She reached out to touch is arm as she spoke to him. He didn’t shake her off, which I found odd. Widow is not a person who likes to be touched. I watched him speak back to her and his own hand slid up her arm and rested on the spot between her neck and shoulder. It was almost a possessive hold and I had to blink a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. When he left her, she watched him walk towards me. When he stood beside me, I glanced over.

“Who’s that?” I jerked my chin in her direction as she turned to walk across the room.

“Just a waitress,” he said nonchalantly, his face showing no emotion per usual.

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