Leather and Sand (Riding the Line Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the day, Hawk helped one of his war buddies finance a shaky fishing boat venture. Decades later, the single boat and skeleton crew had grown into a rather formidable, international shipping operation. Hawk’s buddy now owned a fleet of container ships that routed through Russia, China, and Japan. The island port was the perfect place to stop and re-fuel before heading to the mainland.
    With finances looking grim, Hawk had apparently decided to call in his long-owed favor. Hawk’s buddy had agreed to the deal some weeks ago. Things never went smoothly, though. Not in the world of underground arms smuggling. Just a few days before their scheduled trip to the island, Hawk received word that the connection had contracted some acute illness and was bedridden. His son had taken over the day-to-day operations. When Hawk pressed for more information, there had been no response. So, things were up in the air and Dax was on the hook to secure the deal.
    It was going to be interesting to say the least. Hawk had no information on the son, but Dax hoped he was a reasonable man, like his ailing father seemed to be. The old man assured Hawk he would honor the deal they made decades ago—a favor for a favor. The Phantoms needed the connection. Running guns was easier than running drugs. But, drugs brought more cash—if you could keep your hands out of your own cookie jar. Neither Dax, nor Hawk, wanted to play watchdog over bags of white powder. One fuck up would cost more money than they could repay—and lives too.
    Because of their reluctance to get involved with that shit, the club was running on fumes.
    Pressure was mounting to take on some coke deals just to make ends meet. But, along with temptation, running hard drugs at home would bring added heat—no one wanted the DEA breathing down their necks. ATF was bad enough. Dax and Hawk were on the same page about the hard shit. They enforced a strict, chronic-only policy in the club. Dax and his current president had always worked well together, perhaps because Hawk had mentored Dax over the years. Hell, the man had given him his cut when Dax was just a teen. He was lucky to have Hawk—his president had always been there for him.
    Dax shook himself mentally to avoid a trip down another haunted memory lane. The last thing he needed was to be more distracted right now. He needed to focus, for the good of the club. Even though he battled his demons on a daily basis, Dax would always do what was best for his outlaw family. Sometimes making a deal meant making a sacrifice. Attending this fundraiser crap would mean trading his leather for a dammed suit and there was only one thing Dax hated more than a suit.
    A fucking tie.
    ***
    “Dax, what is this?”
    Looking at the kind of folks heading into the ballroom, it was easy to feel out of place. Even so, Dax knew that Wince was excited that he had been promoted. This was his first big mission wearing the club’s inner circle patch rather than the grunt label plastered all over his cut. The kid was anxious to prove himself-even if his first major deal would happen while he was dressed in a monkey suit, rather than in his leather.
    “Hawk’s connection is supposed to be here. These charities are good ways for high rollers to write off some cash. This guy owes Hawk. Shouldn’t be a big deal to take on a little heat in exchange for the increase in cash flow.”
    And then what?
    Dax wondered where his errant thought came from. He was feeling less grounded lately. The club had always been there for him—-its presence had supported him when he had no one else. Hawk, Gray, and the others, they were his family. So, why was he feeling so unfulfilled lately?
    Dax’s indoctrination into The Phantoms came at an early age, relative to the other guys. He never had a chance to be anything other than his place at the table. Shit, he wasn’t even sure who he would be if he didn’t have the club but he knew that he needed a change…a big change.