Booze O'clock (White Horse Book 2)

By: Bijou Hunter


Salty Peanuts smells like an unflushed toilet. The stink slaps me squarely in my handsome face as soon as I open the front door of the honky-tonk in the bordering town of Hickory Creek Township. I’m here to meet with the president of the local motorcycle club. I hope he has a good explanation for why his bar reeks.

In this honky-tonk, Camden Rutgers is the king. He walks across the dance floor, and people move aside. The women check out his ass, and the men don’t mind their women’s wandering eyes. Camden runs the Serrated Brotherhood Motorcycle Club with his twin brother, Dayton. Their father used to call the shots, and their uncle was second in command. Their aunties are the rich bitches who own half the town. Yeah, Camden is a giant man among the shrimps in Hickory Creek Township.

“Dogs shit in the men’s room,” explains the long-haired, blond biker once he joins me in a back booth. “Our very recently fired bartender has a meth problem. One of his meth friends stole his shit and burned down his house. So Tim’s big fucking solution was to sleep at the bar. Oh, and he kept his big fucking dogs in the men’s room while he partied with friends in here.”

“How many fucking dogs did he have?” I ask, glancing at the men’s room and imagining the damage the dogs might accomplish.

“Six pit bull mixes. Using stupid-ass methhead logic, Tim decided to feed the dogs leftover chili from the kitchen. They shit everywhere. I swear some of it got on the fucking ceiling. The staff tried cleaning the mess before we opened but clearly weren’t successful. We’re considering burning the place to the ground and starting over.”

“I’ll buy you the match.”

Camden smirks, leaning back again. “How’s your old man?”

“Desperate to kill a biker,” I say, knowing he’s making an age-based dig at my stepdad, and boss, Angus Hayes.

“The other day I saw Cap riding around town with Keanu. The kid just won’t stop fucking growing.”

“How about you ask your nephew about his best friend rather than hitting me up for info on my brother?”

“Keanu thinks I’m a dick. He told me so the other day,” Camden says, sounding hurt by his nephew’s assessment.

Aww, poor, powerful bastard. Apparently, young people today just don’t kiss their elders’ asses anymore.

“He isn’t wrong.”

Camden sighs dramatically. “No, he isn’t.”

“Let’s get to business, so I can flee your toilet before you burn it down.”

“Fine, we have a supply problem in Hickory Creek,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Nashville is eating up most of the supply, so want to buy up some of yours in Common Bend to deal with the shortage.”

“Bonn is in charge of Common Bend and deals with suppliers. I handle White Horse, and we don’t have supply. I feel like you wasted my fucking time by having me drive to your stink bar to ask me shit you should have asked your fucking cousin.”

“Bonn said no. I want you to say yes.”

“Why did he tell you to fuck off?”

“He didn’t use those words.”

“He probably pities you.”

“Shit, if I knew you’d be such a bitch, I’d have asked to meet Cricket. At least, when your sister gives me shit, she just makes fun of my hair.”

“You do have stupid hair,” I say, running my hand through my shaggy—yet not hippy-long—blond mane. “Why did Bonn tell you no?”

“He gets his supply from the Reapers, and apparently Johansson doesn’t want my club making money off their shit.”

“Yeah, Cooper doesn’t like you. I remember Hayes mentioning your little biker feud.”

“Not a feud. He’s just a bitch. We’re super fucking nice.”

“Whatever. This shit doesn’t involve me. I only ride a Harley to look sexy, not because I care about biker business.”

“Fuck Johansson. You’re aligned with my club.”

“Look, I’m fine with screwing over a dirty biker from Kentucky to benefit a dirty biker from Tennessee. Go Butternuts! With that said, I’m not in charge of illegal fucking supplies. My job in the organization is to make sure none of that shit ends up in White Horse. If you want someone to screw over Johansson, convince Bonn. Otherwise, you’re plum the fuck out of luck, my dirty biker friend.”