Billionaire Ransom Read Free Page B

probably ratted them out. Or the OutKasts. There was a piece of shit that needed to be cleaned up somewhere.
    Clive shook his head. “No. We just know there’re three of ’em.”
    “We need to figure out who it is, and find out what the hell they know.” He slammed his glass on the bar counter. “What the fuck are they after?” he shouted. “Nobody touches anyone with intent. Do you hear me? Rough ’em up if you have to, but the last thing we need right now is murder, or attempted murder, on our hands. And make no fucking mistake: if we fuck this up and someone gets killed, the DEA’s already in our ranks AND WE’LL FUCKING GO DOWN FOR IT!” He grabbed his glass and drilled it against the wall, shards of glass exploding everywhere. “Someone’s after our ass and I’m going to fucking find out who!”
    His chest heaved as he stood glaring at everyone. They were on the brink of losing everything. Stupid Craig and his need to be a weasel. Had he just kept his head down, they probably wouldn’t be in this mess right now. He inhaled a sharp breath and let it out slowly, lowering his voice as he spoke, “We need to know who the cops have already gotten shit on, and find the rat. In order to do that, we have to make all of us sparkly, fucking clean.  Get the damn DEA out of here as fast as possible!” Fuckin’ drug enforcement administration! Morgan didn’t want to have to deal with drugs. He was hoping to push the club away from all this kind of shit. Now it might be too late.
    “What do you want us to do with the stuff we have on hand?” one of the bikers asked quietly, as if scared his question might set Morgan off.
    Morgan ran his fingers through his hair. “We need to get rid of whatever we have. If the DEA’s already documented sales of illegal substance,” he said and sighed again, “we’re screwed. Let’s minimize the impact as much as possible. Maybe, if we’re lucky, they’re just snooping. They might not have anything on us—yet.”
    “Got it.” Clive nodded. “We’re on it.”
    Morgan clenched his jaw. They needed to get this shit sorted right away. “Okay, let’s ride. I’ll take the south end. Clive, you and a few others take the north. Billy, you and Arnie take the east end, and the rest take the west. Comb through everywhere! We need to get our ears to the ground and get some shit figured out, and fast. If dealers have our shit, get the cash and dump whatever you can. Whatever the hell you do, don’t get fuckin’ caught!”
    He spun around and headed out the bar, the rest of his crew in tow. He swung his leg over his bike and dropped down heavily on it. His good morning had evaporated into a terrible day. He thought of Katie, glad she hadn’t come in with him. At least she was safe, and protected from this shit raining down on them. He kicked the bike to life and headed out, determined to put a band- aid across whatever might be bleeding in his small empire.
     
    **
    Morgan, exhausted from trying to fix what he didn’t know was broken, headed into the parking area of his condo. It was late, but at least he was done for the night. A frown creased his face when he saw Katie’s car still in the driveway, where it was when he’d left this morning. He glanced at his condo and wondered why all the lights were off. It was full dark, and she should have turned on a few lights.
    Unless she was setting the mood for something.
    He grinned, but the corners of his mouth dropped back down. It hit him that he hadn’t heard from her all day, despite her saying she’d text or call. He’d been too busy and stressed to think about it earlier but, now, faced with the dark house, his gut tightened and he knew something was wrong.
    His hand went to his hip and the gun concealed below his leather jacket. He paused, one foot still on the bike pegs and one on the ground. He knew if anyone was in the house, the sound of his engine and the single headlight pulling into the drive had already