Free Jerry Langton Three-Book Biker Bundle by Jerry Langton Page A

when he saw the prefix “testo-” on some of the vials.
    â€œNow, the liquid works faster, but I don’t want you two idiots playing around with needles.” André said as he groped around the storage space for two white plastic bottles. He counted sixty pills into each and handed them to the boys.
    â€œOkay, Dr. Dré says to take one of these beauties every morning with breakfast—and you will start eating breakfast or they won’t work as well; I suggest eggs, they’re full of protein and collagen,” André instructed them. “And y’know Kennedy’s Gym downtown?”
    They both nodded.
    â€œYou both have lifetime unlimited memberships,” André said. “Just show up and tell the manager—make sure it’s Dave you talk to—that André says you have the run of the place.”
    Although neither boy had ever been committed to anything before (unless you count Leo’s pot smoking), they enjoyed their weightlifting. They spent about two hours a day at the gym working upper bodies and lower bodies on alternate days. And they saw almost immediate results. Within six weeks, they were already bigger, hairier, and more aggressive. They even saw their tastes in music and movies change.
    Ned had returned to work the day after his meeting with André. There were a couple of changes, though.
    He no longer went on trips without Leo. It cost him a little—he generally paid Leo in weed and handed him a twenty every once in a while—but it helped ensure that debtors paid in full and on time. The same people who had scoffed at the skinny lad with the shitty car were now ready to work with the two suddenly bold and well-muscled young men who made it clear they meant business.
    And he cut Torchy’s out of his rotation. It cost him a lot—in fact, almost two-thirds of his own net from collections. Torchy’s was still receiving deliveries from André’s other guys but not paying for them.
    Ned made up for that deficit and more by finding customers of his own. Leo had a wide circle of weed-hungry pals. It wasn’t really worthwhile for Ned to visit them all, getting ten bucks here and twenty there, so he set up an André-style distribution center at an independent record store where one of them worked. That, in turn, led to another distribution center at a mens’ residence at the Springfield campus of the state university. André got his ten percent plus costs, and also supplied them with steroids to supply their weightlifting buddies at the gym under the usual terms.

    Ned was on his way to the gym when he received a call from André. He told Ned to grab Leo and come over to his house. As he was just about to pull into the gym’s parking lot, he saw Leo and called him over. “Hop in,” he said. “Big meeting up at André’s.” Leo jumped into the passenger seat and held his door closed for the whole trip.
    André met them out front and told them to get in the pickup. “And park that piece of shit around the corner,” he said. “Don’t want my neighbors to think I hang around with riff-raff.”
    They didn’t talk much as they got on the Interstate in André’s pickup, instead preferring to listen to music. When they did talk, it was mostly about how much weight they were lifting or sharing anecdotes about the stupid or crazy stoners and dealers they had to deal with.
    They were twelve miles from the Canadian border when Ned told André he didn’t have a passport. André said he wouldn’t need one where they were going. Then he drove down an offramp that indicated it led to the road to Millersville and Ondasheeken.
    â€œWhere we going?” Ned asked.
    â€œOndasheeken,” André answered.
    â€œWhat’s there?”
    â€œI’m taking you there to meet the FBI.”
    â€œFBI?”
    â€œYeah—Fuckin’ Big Indian.”
    Other than