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remove a rubber band and count one bundle. “Ten thousand,” I say aloud when I’m finished. I stack the bundles on the table. There are thirty-two total. Coke whistles.
    “That’s our money,” says AJ, one of the men who had Fox’s back. I’m surprised he didn’t leave with Oho. He’s in his thirties, bushy beard, bald head, and green eyes. He’s not the biggest guy we have, but no one would call him small. He’s quiet and has an old lady, and I often wondered what the hell he’s doing here. He followed Fox’s dictates without grumbling. Questioning Fox got you dead real quick and each man here knew it. Didn’t mean you couldn’t tell when someone didn’t like something. AJ was different. He did what Fox asked with more of a blank look than anything else.
    I stare at AJ for a moment before answering. He doesn’t shift his eyes away like he did earlier. “It’s club money. Who the hell knows what Fox planned to do with it. The Crows have existed on selling drugs for too long. When you have no business to launder the money, that money is safer in bags.” I know I’m defending Fox in a way, but I have a point to make. “This is only one of the problems I want brought to the table.”
    I need to take care of Pauline before we finish this conversation. “Skull, take Pauline to the small room.” It’s little more than a large closet with a lock on the outside of the door.
    “Fuck you,” Pauline screams as Skull makes a grab for her.
    “I’ll have one of the men give you a ride to the Valley when our meeting is over. If you wanna fight it, your ass can go out on the highway right now. You’re done here. If you go to the cops, you’re dead. This is the only free pass you’ll get from this club.” I notice two of the women crying. Red has her arms around them. The other woman, who answers to Tramp, is the youngest. The drugs haven’t fucked up her looks too badly yet. Her hair is stringy and unwashed, and her face thin, but it’s nothing like Pauline’s. Her brown eyes hold intelligence when she isn’t high. I’ve tapped her more than once. She’s loud when she comes and disappears quickly when I’m finished. She’s not a clinger and that’s why I’ve gone back for more. Maybe she’ll have a chance. “If you’re leaving with Pauline, follow her and Skull to the small room. This part of the meeting is no longer your concern.”
    Red whispers to the two women she’s holding. They both shake their heads. I glance at Tramp and she shakes her head too. The women live in an old trailer behind the clubhouse. The fucking trailer is a worse place to live than the clubhouse—hotter in the summer and colder in the winter. They need better accommodations. I tuck this thought away for later. Too much shit to handle right now. We’ll see how the women come through withdrawals before tackling smaller problems.
    Skull hauls Pauline over his shoulder. She screams the entire way to the small room. When they’re out of sight, I lay down my plans. “Peach City has little to offer the four-wheeler and sand buggy enthusiasts who flock to the desert around here. They camp with their families and friends and bring a heavy need for gas and supplies. They tote their shit in, drive south to the reservation or north to Payson for those supplies. The club owns a chunk of property along the highway. Won’t be cheap to get fuel tanks installed but a small store with essentials would be a good start. We have enough contractors in this room to make it happen within a few months.” Up until today that’s how I earned my living. “We also have bike mechanics. Four-wheelers and buggies aren’t much different from motorcycles. When they break down, we can make money on repairs. I say we pull this club out of the dark side and get our shit together. I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m tired of working for the man, driving to the Valley or Payson to do it, and making just enough money to put a roof over my