Mad Sea Read Online Free Page A

go a long way in the drug world.
    “Let’s see what you’re pushing,” I say as I stride over to him. He’s got a table set up with a bag sitting on top.
    He gestures with a wolfish grin that has my hackles on alert. “Sample the product. Columbian perfection.”
    Jagger saunters past me. The massive guy is intimidating as hell with a shaved head, neck tattoos, and a perpetual scowl. Javier isn’t immune to Jagger’s intimidation and his eyes become shifty as he watches my friend approach the coke. Jagger dips his finger into the white powder and tastes it. Cassius follows behind him. When Cassius’s shoulders tense, I cut my eyes to Jagger. His gaze flits over to the pallet filled with boxes labeled as flour. Nodding, understanding his message, I make my way over to the table with the coke they just sampled to see for myself what the problem is.
    It’s okay.
    Not Ramone quality.
    “Trust goes a long way with the Southside Sinners. Am I right, Cass?” My eyes remain fixed on Javier. Cassius grunts and stalks over to the pallet.
    “That it does, Mad Dog.” He yanks his pocket knife out and cuts open the first box.
    “It’s the same,” Javier assures me, his palms in the air. Despite his assurances, I don’t trust the guy.
    Jagger walks over to help Cassius. Together, they pull the boxes out, one by one. They’re silent as they cut open each box and sample the goods. Javier has since paled, but wisely remains quiet.
    “Well?” I question, my eyes still on Javier.
    “No deal.” Cassius’s angry glare meets mine, and I nod my understanding.
    With the force of a hurricane Miami hasn’t even seen before, I slam my fist into Javier’s face. The man crumples to his knees, clutching his now bleeding nose.
    “Stupid American!” he cries out.
    My boys and I all start back toward our bikes. We leave the scammer asshole with his shitty coke to head back to the clubhouse. As soon as we’re inside, I motion for them to follow me into my office for a meeting. Several club whores smile seductively at me as we pass, but I ignore them all. I yearn to think about her. Hali Morgan. The one who continuously plagues my thoughts. However, I’m working hard at keeping her in a safe place where she belongs. Even thinking about her in this environment is detrimental to her safety.
    “What are we gonna do, boss?” Steam, a big ‘ol boy with a white beard that resembles Santa’s, questions as he settles on the bench at the table.
    I take my place at the head and regard all of the rough men as they sit. “What do our finances look like, Moe?”
    Moe, before losing his wife and kids in a car accident, was an accountant at one time. After the most devastating time of his life, he joined our motorcycle club and became our numbers boy. He’s good at what he does. We’ve plenty of investments to keep us funded for years.
    “Depends on what you want to do, Mad Dog. I don’t want to work with that lying shithead though. That’ll just fuck things up on our end with our clientele,” he says with a groan.
    He leaves the room briefly and returns with the ledger. One of the club bitches comes in to ask if anyone wants a drink. Once we’re all settled with a cold beer, Moe looks up from his paperwork.
    “We don’t need it. The stocks are performing well and the mutual funds aren’t losing. There’s enough to pay all the bills and keep things moving comfortably. Hell, we could even drop the arms dealing altogether for three years and five months. We’d still have enough to last that long, operating with all of our assets.”
    Cassius grunts his irritation, but it’s Jagger who surprises me with his anger.
    “So that’s just it, man? Give it all up and fucking retire for three years?” His brown eyes flicker with rage.
    I roll my eyes at him and cross my arms over my chest. “Nobody said anything about quitting, fuckwad. We’re just exploring our options. Let’s keep weapons going like normal. For now, we’re going