Grey (Storm's Soldiers MC Book 2) by Paige Notaro

an errand. My brother stood propped against the car a few feet up, smoking out into the wind. It would be too obvious to ask him direct, and besides, without Thurge, he needed me here.
    Thing was, Meagan needed me around at four to keep an eye out for her too. She was meeting with some ex about some college thing. In her words, she didn’t need me, but she just wanted me to see she was on the level about the whole thing.
    As if I didn’t trust her intentions. As if I didn’t know her enough by now to look into those dark eyes and see them tight with sadness. I didn’t know exactly what had passed between the two, but it wasn’t good.
    My blood boiled at the idea of her alone with him, even in a public place. I needed to be there.
    A whistle rang out in the air above - Asher letting us know the payload was here. I should have been pissed that he gave away a tactical position, but I was too relieved to give a shit.
    The faded sedan rumbled down the winding roads into the pit from another side, kicking up dirt and gravel. It dropped to our level and drove up to us before turning and stopping. The head honcho climbed out from the passenger side and stretched his flabby body. His driver popped out, tense and fixed on us.
    Then, two more guys popped out of the backseats. They had dark oiled skin, tattooed and scarred - real fighters.
    My thoughts scattered. This hadn’t happen before. I landed on my piece but didn’t pull it out. I signaled to Leonidas to hold back. We had Asher. No need to cause incident yet.
    Calix crushed out his cigarette and met the Cartel boss as he strode out in shorts and sandals. He pursed his lips and took a long gander at my brother.
    “We have considered your proposal,” he said finally.
    Calix had shared what this meant. That’s what his little mission had been about – requesting a bigger payout from the Cartel for the increased risk we were taking.
    “Good,” Calix said and nothing more. He knew just how to play this.
    “You are right,” the Mexican said. “You do deserve more money.”
    He ticked his head to the side, and the three aides went around to the trunk and came back with a satchel each. It was three times our usual payment.
    “Fuck yeah,” Leonidas grunted.
    My eyes were on Calix though and he seemed puzzled. A tripling in our pay didn’t seem right to me. I kept my grip tight on my piece as he looked through a bag. His face seized with anger.
    “The fuck is this?” he asked, pulling out a stack of paper that was distinctly blue.
    “Pesos,” the Cartel man said calmly.
    “We can’t use these in America.”
    The man shrugged. “You said you wanted more money, so here you are. More money.”
    Calix looked from bag to bag, but I knew exactly what that shithead Cartel guy had done.
    “This is your usual payment,” the cartel boss said, spreading his arms out, “But now there is more of it.”
    Calix marched up to him, but there were metal clicks and the three lackeys had guns in their hands.
    I pulled out my piece, my heart pounding. I hoped to god that Asher could read the situation right over the radio. Too early and my brother would be the first in line to get shot. Too late, and he’d already be dead.
    “What the fuck is this?” Calix asked, stabbing a finger at the guy’s face.
    “It is what we are offering you.” The Cartel man said, his face losing warmth word by word. “Who do you think has the power here, gringo?”
    “You’re in America, senor. You’d do best to remember that.”
    “I do. The saying here is money talks, yes?” He spat on the rock. “We are the ones with the money. Take what we let you have and go on home, little boy. Hand over your toys and go play with your little bikes. You are dealing with men.”
    He stared down Calix and time slowed to a crawl. Meagan’s face crawled across my mind and kept me from doing anything nuts.
    Calix opened the car trunk and heaved out the parcel of gear. I stayed ready, but he hauled it over