🚨THIS STORY HAS EXPLICIT SCENES AND MATURE CONTENT. IT IS NOT ADVISED FOR THOSE YOUNGER THAN 18 (There will be scenes that contain torture and/or murder)🚨
Viper is the President of The Shadow Skulls, one of the most feared MCs on the west coast. H...
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VIPER
"YO, Viper! We've got a small problem with this last shipment," Pretty Boy, my number two in command said as he barged into my office.
I finish washing my bruised hands in my bathroom. I just had to show someone that when I said to do something, I meant it. My MC is the only thing I care about in this life. People were flaky, they came and went, but my MC? That remained the constant in my life.
I mumble under my breath as I leave the bathroom, "Just once, can there not be any trouble?"
"I'm sorry, what did you say Viper?"
"Forget it. Tell me the problem," I say as I make my way towards my desk.
"They shorted us about three crates," he says.
"THEY FUCKING WHAT!?!" I say as I jump out of my chair, "Well what did you do when you found this out?"
"I didn't know until we got back to the warehouse," he says as he flinches, "honestly man I was too busy making sure we made it out with our lives."
Closing my eyes and pinching the bridge between my nose, "So who took care of the swap?"
"Moose."
"Then it's easy, have Moose and Headhunter take a crew to let them fuckers know what happens when you fuck with The Shadow Skulls."
I grab him by his jacket, "If they fail Pretty Boy, I'm putting a bullet in your ass! You know I don't fucking play when it comes to my MC."
His facial expression is stoic, but there's fear in his eyes, "I promise they'll handle it Vipe."
I hold on to his jacket for dramatic effect, but then let go, "Good. Failure is not an option for me or this MC."
He leaves out of my office without another word. I sit back down and lean back in my chair and sigh. I would never intentionally hurt Pretty Boy since he's my most trusted man; however, he knows that when it comes to the reputation of The Skulls, I won't stand for anything less than ruthless. We worked hard for this reputation and the next MC is always looking to challenge us.
Since staying in an office too long always makes me feel a little claustrophobic, I get up, lock my essentials away so no one can see what my next moves are, and head out. I don't trust anyone when it comes to the MC business side of things, much less the financial business side of things as well.
I trust my men with my life because we've been through the trenches together, risking our necks for one another. When it came to the Feds and we got caught, no one spoke about anything. If we ever got locked up, which some of us have, we'd do our time, come out and get back to MC business, that was the life, for life.
