Prosper (Hells Saints MC Book 7) Read online

  Prosper spent the next few days putting together a complicated plan that, if successful, would be both highly illegal and extremely lucrative.

  Then he made that call to Derringer.

  About a week later, Jack had the doctors’ information about the cost of Maggie’s treatments, and Prosper had a plan. He had already reached out to Derringer, and together they formulated a course of action that would not only help Jack out, but also move the club in a direction Derringer had been advocating for. Then Prosper called upon him to make the trip down to finalize it all.

  “Derringer … Jack. Jack … Derringer.” Prosper grunted out introductions and took the seat next to his second in command.

  Jack nodded to Derringer and slid into the opposite side of the booth. He stuck out his hand. “Just want to say thank you, man.”

  “Hey, no problem.” Derringer, who prided himself on being able to tell a lot about a man by his handshake, took a moment to size Jack up. Jack’s grip was straight and strong. He kept full eye contact and was quick to release. All of which signified strength, respect, and confidence in Derringer’s world.

  “So, here’s the deal,” Prosper began to explain the plan to Jack. “The club rented out some commercial property. We’re gonna bring in some tools and equipment … a couple of hydraulic lifts, air compressors, paint booths … shit like that. I got a couple of the brothers who have a mechanic’s license willing to come down on a rotating basis and work legit. An old buddy of mine runs guns out in the Midwest. The gun business is getting to be too heavy a lift; there’s too much time in between shipments and too much risk. He's convinced his crew to expand in a new direction. They have product and transport but no way to launder. That’s where we come in. Between this new place and the properties we already own, we’ll be able to move the cash through and wash the money with no problem. The split I’ve negotiated is more than generous.”

  “And the product is … smack?” Jack guessed.

  Prosper shook his head. “For the foreseeable future, we’re gonna be dealing in black market prescription drugs. Easier to transport, high yield payout. Then we’ll go from there, but for right now, you’ll have the money you need for as long as you need it.”

  Jack shook his head. “Sounds good. But where’s the risk to me? Seems like everyone else has got their nuts in a vice for my family. I sure as hell appreciate it, but I can’t let your club become the fall guy should something go wrong. Besides that, what about your cut … the brothers’ cut … the club’s cut of the profits?”

  Derringer gave Prosper a questioning look, and when Prosper nodded his head in the affirmative, Derringer took it from there. “The risk for you is that we’re gonna be putting the business in your name … sole proprietor. So, if things go south, which we don’t foresee happening, you’ll be taking that hit as owner-operator. You good with that?”

  “For sure, I’m good. And if I go down? I go down alone. You have my goddamn word on that,” Jack said with full sincerity. “You can count on me to keep my mouth shut. All I ask is that my family is taken care of.”

  “Of course, man. But we’re pretty good at what we do, and I don’t think being sent away is something you have to worry about,” Derringer assured Jack, then he put his hand down hard on Prosper’s shoulder. “A better man, or a better friend than this big, ugly sonofabitch right here is something you ain’t ever gonna find. So, don’t worry about anybody’s cut. Nobody’s taking a cent until Maggie’s done getting what she needs.”

  Prosper glared at him while Jack looked confused.

  Derringer, clearly enjoying himself, sat back and grinned at Prosper.

  “What the fuck you talking about?” Prosper scowled.

  “You put me in as acting president and that allows me the power of executive decision.” Derringer leaned forward. “So, you can wipe that badass look off your face. The boys and I want to do this, Prosper. For you, for Jack, and for Maggie. Besides, I already had Beast run some numbers on the legit aspect of the business. The projections are sweet, so the boys will take their cut from that. I’ll take my cut when you do.”

  Prosper cleared his throat several times but remained speechless.

  Jack’s eyes misted up and he took an embarrassed swipe at a tear that had begun to roll down his cheek.

  “I don’t know what the hell to say,” Jack reddened and stuttered, “except … th-thank you.”

  “You’re fucking welcome.” Derringer reached for a menu. “Now, can we get something to eat? All this talk about committing felonious acts has made me hungry. Ahh, there we go … Hell, yeah … a sixteen-ounce T-bone.”

  “Sorry boys, we had a water leak in the back and I’ve been on bucket detail. Beer’s on the house to make up for it.” The waitress was busy laying down a pitcher of beer and three glasses on the table.

  “Hey, you’re Petey’s sister.” Jack looked at her.

  “Guilty.” She smiled at him.

  When Prosper looked up over his menu, his eyes lasered on the waitress and widened in surprise. Pinky met that look equally startled and blushed ferociously. “Hey, Prosper.”

  “Hey,” Prosper rasped out. “I, uh … I … so, uh … you, uh, work here?”

  Derringer put down the menu and sat back in the booth with his interest focused on the pretty little waitress. The blue-eyed blonde had Prosper Worthington, the badass who, just a few moments ago, had been making plans to launder half a million in drug money, stammering like a goddamn school boy.

  “So, you two crazy kids know each other?” Derringer interrupted with a wicked grin.

  Prosper flexed and gave Derringer a low growl. All of a sudden a voice boomed out from across the bar.

  “Pinky, I got this! Eat up, boys. Whatever you want, it’s on me !” In a flash, Petey stood at the booth. He reached out and shook Prosper’s hand, and then extended his hand to Jack and Derringer. “Name’s Petey. Prosper did me a solid the other night. Saved my kid sister here from a goddamn grizzly bear and got her home safe and sound when I was too shitfaced to do it myself. Managed to get my big drunk ass back to my place too. Thanks, man.”

  “So, you gave this pretty damsel in distress a ride the other night, huh, brother?” Derringer leaned forward with interest.

  “Shut the hell up.” Prosper snarled.

  “Hey, why don’t you take a seat. Have a beer.” Jack invited Petey to join them.

  “You sure?” Petey asked as a courtesy, but he had already pulled a chair from another table and stuck it at the end of the booth.

  “Hey, you said you’re paying, right? Least we can do is share a brew with you. Now, you wanna tell us more about the night of the grizzly.” Derringer was enjoying Prosper’s discomfort way too much to resist poking the proverbial bear.

  “Nothing much to tell. Just me getting my ass dead drunk while my wife, Dolly, was away with my kid. Little sister here calls for help because she’s stranded in a rest area with a flat tire and a grizzly foraging in a damn trashcan, and I’m too wasted to take the call. So, my man, Prosper, helped out with a ride.”

  “Yeah, he’s a real gentleman that way.” Derringer winked at Pinky, and she blushed so hard even those little pointed ears of hers turned red.

  “I guess we can all see how you got the name. Can’t say I ever saw a woman blush like that before,” Derringer said with obvious admiration. “Next time you need a ride home, pretty lady, I’m your man.”

  “Next time she needs a ride home, I’m her man,” Prosper shot out so quickly he even surprised himself.

  Derringer gave him a long, cool look, then leaned back with a lazy smile on his face. “With all due respect, brother, I’d say that’s up to the lady.”

  “What time do you get out?” Prosper swung his head around and laser-focused on Pinky.

  “One, at the earliest. A little later depending how much clean up we have to do. But I … uh … I … have a ride,” Pinky stammered out.

  “You bet your ass, you do. I’ll be out in t
he parking lot at twelve thirty. Take all the time you fucking need,” he told her in no uncertain terms. Prosper was talking to Pinky, but he was looking right at Derringer when he finished by saying, “I’ll be waiting.”

  Derringer put his hands up in surrender.

  Jack gave them both a disgusted look. “You two boys done with your pissin’ contest because I’m starving. Darlin’, you ready to take my order?”

  “Sure thing.” To Pinky’s credit, she whipped out her order book and rattled off the specials like a boss.

  Fucking Derringer, Prosper thought to himself as he stabbed at his steak.

  But really, who could blame the guy? Not like Prosper had any sort of claim to her, or even wanted to.

  Had he thought about Pinky? If he was truthful about it, he’d have to say not much. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had a great time with her, it was just that he didn’t have a whole lot of room leftover in his brain to think about pleasurable shit.

  If things were different, Prosper forced the thought out of his mind quickly. He knew that aside from some really good sex, he had nothing to offer Pinky.

  Because … Maggie.

  “I set some shit in motion before I left, so if you give me the go ahead to wrap up negotiations, we can have this up and running on our end in about a week.” Derringer and Prosper were finalizing plans outside the restaurant. “You good with scouting out some property? Beast is doing his thing in Miami, but I touched base just in case, and he’s fine to come on up and help out.”

  “Send Beast.” Prosper nodded.

  Derringer took a long look at his friend and felt a surge of sympathy, because no matter what, this was going to end badly. “You know, brother, you look exhausted. You ain’t gonna do anybody any good if you don’t get in some regular sleep.”

  Prosper laid a hard hand on Derringer’s shoulder. “Thanks, brother. I know this is a lot to put on you. More than you signed up for.”

  Derringer snorted. “Are you kidding? I live for this shit. I’ll be talking to you soon.”

  After Derringer sped off, Prosper returned to where Jack was waiting with the bikes.

  “Aw, man. It’s Raine’s birthday tomorrow.” Jack’s shoulders slumped.

  “What? I thought it was Saturday?” Prosper looked at him in alarm.

  “Nah, Saturday is the party with her little friends. Maggie used to belong to a small group of school moms, so one of them offered to bring the kids to the movies and out for ice cream, you know, to make it easier on us. But Maggie wanted to do a cake and stuff at our house for Raine with the family. I totally fucking forgot. I just can’t wrap my head around that kind of shit anymore. And now I have no way to bring anything home.” Jack waved at his Harley.

  “Get your ass home, Jack. I can pick some stuff up. I got plenty of room in the saddle bags, and I can tie up the cake to the seat if I have to,” Prosper told him.

  Jack sighed in relief. “So, you got this?”

  Prosper nodded. “I got this.”

  He took a look at his watch and for a minute he regretted letting Derringer rile him up enough to offer Pinky that ride. But in the next breath, Derringer was nothing if not an opportunist and he had been ready to jump right in. The thought of Pinky and Derringer together brought out a visceral reaction in him.

  He didn’t fucking like it.

  Whatever the reason, Prosper wasn’t going to stand up Pinky after he had given her his word. He may be a lot of things, but he wasn’t that guy.

  He had enough time to go to the 24/7 Superstore, which would have everything he needed. Then he’d run it back to Jack and Maggie’s house and still have time to go to the motel and take a quick shower before picking up Pinky.

  Prosper roamed the aisles. What the hell did you buy for an eight-year-old’s birthday party? The last one she was going to have with her mother, that unbidden thought flashed through Prosper’s overburdened mind and heavy heart as he loaded up.

  Luckily things like paper products and party favors didn’t take up much room. He bought colorful Happy Birthday plates, cups, and napkins along with silly glasses, a whole bunch of stuff that glowed in the dark, bubbles in neon colors, an eight pack of something called slime, three kinds of noise makers, two large pouches of shredded bubble gum, crepe paper and balloons for decorating, a Birthday Girl tiara and silken sash, and about a dozen candy bars.

  The cake was chocolate and it was decorated in pastel-colored roses made from buttercream.

  “Hey, can you put some more roses on this cake?” Prosper called out to the woman behind the bakery counter.

  She dusted her hands off on her apron and came around from behind the counter. She was a short, heavyset woman with white hair, soft, deep wrinkles and kind eyes.

  “More?” She gave Prosper a quizzical look. “That’s a whole lot of sugar on that cake already, honey.”

  “Can you do it?” Prosper snarled back.

  The woman, whose name tag said MARIGOLD, put a gentle hand on Prosper’s arm where it was tight and flexed.

  “There, there. Of course, I can do it. I can cover the whole thing for you … sides and all if that’s what you want. Should be a happy occasion, and by the looks in your basket there, you plan on having a heck of a celebration. Is the party for a little girl?”

  Prosper nodded, and at the gentle touch of the grandmotherly baker, he began to relax. In truth, this birthday shopping had been tearing his heart out. He suddenly found himself all choked up.

  “How about if I make you up a special cupcake for the birthday girl? Then you can buy this pretty cake without loading up on the frosting?”

  “That’d be great,” Prosper muttered.

  “I’m gonna go get you a nice cup of hot coffee, and you’re gonna go over to that table there and sit down and enjoy it while I frost that cupcake for you. Any special color?”

  Prosper shrugged. “Don’t matter, so long as it looks good.”

  The woman nudged Prosper towards a small table and chair, then walked over to the coffee bar and poured him a hot, fresh black coffee and brought it to him with cream and sugar on the side.

  “All those lovely party supplies and I don’t see a birthday gift.”

  “Ah, shit.” Prosper banged his hand on the table, and if the coffee hadn’t had a lid on it, both of them would have been covered in Breakfast Blend.

  “Now, now dear, this store has everything. Why don’t you give it some thought while I work on that cupcake. I have eleven grandchildren, six of them are girls. You need an idea, you just say the word.”

  “Okay, sure.” Prosper narrowed his eyes at her. He knew she was just being kind. The tight lines around his mouth, the tension in his body, the tone of his voice … the breaking of his heart, everyone knew that grandmothers had some sort of microchip or homing device that helped them zero in on private miseries. It was in their DNA to try to make things better. But if Marigold thought that a jazzed-up cupcake or a cup of coffee was gonna fix what ailed him, she was dead wrong.

  “So, What do you think she’d like?” Marigold asked.

  “I think she’d like her mother not to be dying,” Prosper shot back as a red-hot anger filled him. The injustice of it all suddenly hit him hard and made his fists clench. “Jesus … I’m sorry,”

  Her kind eyes were filled with sadness and an unexpected measure of understanding. “Drink your coffee up now, dear”—she patted him on the shoulder— “and I’ll think about it.” Then she turned and walked away.

  For the first time in … well … maybe ever, Prosper felt something that he thought might be remorse. He silently reproached himself for being such a rude bastard. Who else but a real asshole would lash out at a kindly, old woman who was named after a bright, sunny little flower for Christ’s sake.

  In a matter of minutes she returned with the boxed-up cake and cupcake, and also placed a piece of lemon meringue pie in front of him. After she poured a cup of coffee for herself, she sat down and covered her hand over his.

/>   “My daughter and her husband were mugged thirty years ago. They stole her purse, his wallet, and their wedding rings before they shot them both pointblank in the chest.”

  “Jesus, I am so sorry …” Prosper stammered out.

  She patted his hand. “We all are. It was such a long time ago and that pain of losing Adelaide and David is still as strong for me and my Bill today as it was then. She left behind three boys: seven, nine, and twelve years old. Of course, we took them in. I think the thing that saved us all was that we kept our minds occupied. We kept ourselves and those boys busy. Bill and I gave each of them whatever they wanted as long as it required dedication, practice, and concentration: music lessons, sports camp, little league, soccer, art lessons—you name it. Bill even bought an old Camaro, and he and the boys worked on restoring it. The deal was that they all worked on it, and after it was finished, the oldest got it when he graduated from high school. All in all, Bill and the boys restored three cars together, and they each got themselves a car.

  “Those boys are all grown now, each with their own family, a good job, and most importantly, they are decent men. They triumphed over their tragedy and I know your little sweetheart will too. Sure, she’ll have some hurdles to work through and will need someone she knows she can count on … a safe place to fall. As long as there’s a strong support system for her, she’ll do fine.”

  Prosper did not know it then, but that one conversation served to help him navigate the trajectory of Raine and Claire’s lives.

  There was a small glow of light in the kitchen when Prosper pulled up to the house. He grabbed the purchases out of the saddle bags and untied the cake and cupcake. Then precariously balancing everything in one hand, he reached out to turn the knob of the kitchen door. The door suddenly opened and Raine was standing there in her little daisy pajamas.

  “Hey, little darlin’! How come you’re not in bed?” Prosper asked as he moved into the kitchen to put the teetering items on the table. He glanced over at the clock, noticing it was just after midnight and much too late for a child to be up.