THE LOST BOY ♡♡ JT.♡♡

kILLING ME SOFTLY

Jax, Opie, and Clay rolled up in front of the Jellybean lounge, their anticipation building. The long-awaited meeting with the Russians had finally been arranged, and now they had a chance to reclaim their gun business. As Jax removed his helmet and casually hung it on his handlebars, he ran a hand through his buzzed hair, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. His gaze shifted upwards, landing on the flickering red neon sign of the Jellybean. The place was a complete dive, just as Opie had warned. The strippers, if you could even call them that, were mostly desperate souls, trapped in the clutches of addiction, working tirelessly to feed their next fix.

The Russians had a notorious reputation for their involvement in the dark world of human trafficking. They would exploit these girls, using them until they were mere shells of their former selves. The mere thought of stepping foot into that wretched building made Jax's stomach churn. It wasn't just because he had to put on a facade and play nice with a man who had once ordered a hit on him. No, it was something deeper, something that struck at the core of his being. Jax despised the way the Russians treated their girls, knowing deep down that most of them were not there willingly. The sheer thought of it made him sick to his core.

"Come on Brother, let's get this shit over with I've got a wedding to get to." Opie smiled as he clapped Jax on the back. 

Jax smiled and climbed off his bike, keeping in step with Opie and Clay.

"Play it cool Son," Clay said as he held the door open. Clay knew Jax would have to keep his temper in check and bite his tongue with Viktor Putlova. 

Jax nodded, his heart pounding with anticipation, and followed his brothers into the club. The place was a dump, just as he had expected. The walls were painted a dingy red, and the tiled floors were so dirty that Jax could feel the grime sticking to the soles of his sneakers. The stage was small and unimpressive, with a lone pole in the middle and a girl who looked like she had seen better days. Jax couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for her she looked like Wendy had when she was using.

But his attention was quickly drawn to the booth at the front of the room. There sat Putlova, flanked by two hulking Russian bodyguards. Jax could see the satisfaction in the man's eyes as he watched the pitiful pole dancer try to entertain him. Jax's jaw clenched as he fought the urge to pull out his Glock and put a bullet right between Putlova's eyes.

As the three Sons approached, Putlova stood up to greet them. "Welcome gentlemen," Putlova called in his thick Russian accent. Jax could feel the tension in the air, as Putlova held out his hand to greet him, Jax gave him a tight smile and pushed his anger down as he took his greeting gave the Mafia leader a strong shake, and sat down in the booth his brothers following suit.

"I trust you're healing well." Putlova's tone sounded nervous.

"Fine... it's only business right?"

"Yes, I'm glad we could settle all that," Putlova said.

"It's not all settled, You've been taking 80% of the Irish stock for your customers up north," Clay spoke.

"And 80% of the risk as well. we handled all the transport and storage." Putlova informed them.

"Well, now it's time for that equal share scenario to kick in."

"Yes as we discussed you'll get 50% of the hardware. But if we continue to transport and house the guns, we need to be compensated." Jax tried to hide a smirk as Putlova gave his terms. Putlova looked like he was sitting in his palace and this was his castle and Jax couldn't help but feel amused by that. This place wasn't fit for a dog.

"It would take us a while to set up shop. We'll give you 5%"

"That's an awful lot of risk and manpower for just 5%" Putlova smirked.