Death’s Deal (Broken Bows, Hade’s Army MC #1)

Chapter 28

P ast, present, and Hell. Everything meshed, molded, and married up. Every part of our lives was a piece of the Federal puzzle that Johnson was more than happy to solve. Sending his gumshoe partners back out to the common area to wait, Johnson stays at church.

“Hylo was one twisted woman. She has a file larger than Mayhem, and that’s saying something,” Johnson states it like he’s impressed. Each looks to one another, wondering how Johnson is caught up on our closed-door bug-free conversation.

Walking to an empty beer can in the trash, he raises it, eyes the bottom, and removes a tiny almost nonexistent electronic device. “You almost got them all,” Johnson states to the room, finding a sea of faces even more annoyed at the gov goon than they had been twenty minutes previous. “I promise, this is the last one.”

I nod. “Not many knew her by that name, but, yeah.”

“Cactus was who I knew her as.” Shaking like a leaf in the breeze, Piper grits her teeth together then speaks with malice, “She was more ruthless than the Queen could ever be. When she came to the compound, everyone ran in fear. And I mean everyone.” Seeing a lone tear stream down her ebony cheek, catching it with the back of her hand and wiping it away, Piper gathers her pain, and shores her soul up around the memories. “Even someone as brutal as Hector ran scared of her.” She turns to Cap and Busta. “Your father would escape her visits, heading to the fight rings, the fields, and the slave quarters. He’d go anywhere to be away from her.”

Steely Joker asks, “Where is this Hylo now?” Resting on his elbows, his eyes train on me, looking for a hidden truth. “Will she be our next problem?”

“My mother is not something I’ve talked about or seen in years. She’s dead.” Eyeing Toni, I take a deep breath and continue the lie. I tell them of the last time I saw her. “My mother died the year before I went to jail. I’d begged her to take me to this specialty store in Orange County and she did. On the way home, her car was sideswiped on the highway by a drunk asshole. He didn’t live long either. Mayhem made sure of that with a forty-eight caliber.” I pause, letting the memory settle over me. It’s one I wish to forget in totality.

“Mind if we give you our two cents?” Johnson interrupts coolly. His easy demeanor around our MCs has become even more chill over the past few months. It's slightly disconcerting. The Army, the Bows, and the Soulless have had our mutual dealings with Johnson that had been beneficial for our survival, but it’s not a friendship by any means. Seeing his excessive comfort in this situation needs to be quashed. Johnson feels he is untouchable around us. He’s a federal agent who had nearly cost us our clubs, and he needs to be reminded of that, and soon.

I don’t answer his loaded question, I merely shrug.

“We’re in a spot,” he states quite unceremoniously.

Joker clips curtly, “Sounds like a you problem.”

“It would be, if we didn’t have to contend with this new relationship.” Pointing to Toni and me, all eyes scan our direction.

“What did I do?” Puffing out her chest, crossing her arms and hoping to seem tough, Toni’s brows turn in as she scowls.

“You, personally? Nothing. Your father did.” Looking my way, Johnson grins. “Then there’s you. The deal you struck with the mayor has put you on the radar of Mano and Murianos.” Blowing out a breath, he contemplates what he wishes to reveal. The room lights up with interest at the sound of Murianos’s name. “He’s someone we’ve carefully tucked away in a holding cell of our choosing. After all, I’ve learned sometimes what these assholes know is less worrisome than why they care.”

Leaning back in his chair, Joker clips, “Again, that’s a you problem.”

Miss chin raises to Johnson with a devious smile. “Who gives a shit about what Murianos wants if he’s in your custody? If this Mano character is someone worse, then Murianos locked away is one less piece on the board.”

Busta visibly seethes, but somehow, he’s holding his shit together as he states through gritted teeth, “Murianos is your problem now, not ours. Not anymore.” As an ex-DEA agent turned MC Pres, Busta knows Johnson’s tactics well enough, and I wouldn’t say they have a happy relationship. It’s a house built on mutual respect using bricks of deceit.

“That’s where you’re wrong. The Queen, Murianos, and a few other choice assholes were all very small potato criminals compared to the bigger fish swimming upstream in our direction. That book of hers holds more information in one page that could help topple the largest cartels in the world. Can you imagine what we can do with the whole thing? What it could eradicate when it comes to underground fight rings, gun running, and drugs. It is a means to an end, and a little collection of MCs out of LA won’t be able to stop them if they come knocking. Especially if someone like Mano’s cartel wants what you want. You don’t want to mess with this group. I know stronger assholes than you who quiver in their high-end loafers when they see them in their rearview.”

As we all take a moment to understand the gravity of our situation, a loud peeling laugh erupts... from Piper. At first, it’s awkward, then, as we turn her way, she breaks out in uncontrollable giggles.

“Love, are you okay?” Cap’s inquiry is laced with heavy concern.

Pulling in a deep breath, trying to calm herself, with an “I’m fine” gesture, Piper clears her throat with a sigh. “Sorry, but Johnson is kidding himself if he thinks anyone is worse than the Queen or Hylo. You’ve never lived under their rule.”

Raising a brow, Johnson retorts, “Maybe not. I can’t say I know what it’s like to be where you were, but I will say Mano could make where you were feel like a five-star resort.” Looking at Toni and me, Johnson smiles. It’s one of those knowing smiles that has your teeth ache.

Flatly, I state, “The way you’re grinning has me worried I’m not about to like this.”

“Nope. Probably not.”

“Great,” Toni mutters.

Johnson begins to pace the space. “Your interaction has presented us with an opportunity. Mano is something that has been on the FBI, CIA, and Interpol radar for years. We have not had a way to infiltrate them. I have been asked to submit a resolution that could turn the tide in this war we’re waging.”

Pulling out a folded bunch of papers from a messenger bag he’d carried in, it looks like a thick set of contracts. Laying them on the table, one in front of Busta, one in front of Cap, and one nearest to me, he directs his attention to me first. “That deal of yours with the mayor, the seven million for Antonia’s protection.” He pauses and waits for Toni’s reaction to the revelation. “I don’t blame you for wanting compensation for what he put you through, but it is dirty money from the Mano cartel that is now funding your club. The same cartel that put you in jail and brought us to this point, Death. You thought all along it was because of the deal struck with Murianos, and or the Queen. It wasn’t.”

Looking at Toni, knowing this newest revelation could cause our recent reunion to fail, the look in her eyes is one of understanding. Reaching for my hand, she grasps it tightly before pulling it to her lips for a sweet kiss on the back of it. I’ll still have to explain it all to her later, but for now, I understand she is content to continue as we are, as a united front before the government goon.

“Who the fuck is this Mano?” Cap snaps with a smack to the table.

Eyeing me instead of Cap, he replies, “Someone even I don’t mess with.” Johnson’s stressed reaction speaks louder than his words ever could.

As we each pick up the paperwork, flipping them open and skimming through the stacked legal jargon, Johnson continues to talk on, “These are the deeds to your properties, your clubs, your homes, and or, the foreclosures that will occur on them by the state if you do not agree. Each are properties used for the means of illegal narcotics, gun running, and the sex trade. Therefore, they are to be sold off and auctioned for 10 cents on the dollar, with the proceeds going to Victims of Crimes USA.”

Cap is the first to speak out about the paperwork he reads, “You’re selling our properties? Over my dead fucking corpse you are.”

“If need be, that’s my boss’s intention, Codero.” Johnson’s flat tone leaves me to believe this wasn’t his decision. Blowing out an exasperated breath, he adds, “I tried. Honestly, I did.”

“I don’t think you tried hard enough, Agent,” Joker quips off, his usual jovial tone at all things serious is more serious than jovial. I’ve never seen him truly pissed off. Even when we were in the thick of the fighting, he made light of almost every action or reaction. Right now, I’d say his proverbial “tank for bullshit” is full, and he’s about to go a bit off on Johnson.

“This isn’t our fight. Not anymore. We paid our dues to society and most of us paid a hefty price for it. I think we were all owed a bit of leniency from that boss of yours,” Busta interjects while he hands his paperwork over to Miss, without really looking at it.

Eyeballing my own quickly, there is a ton of legal shit I just don’t understand. The paperwork lists in heavy print across the front page Humble, my home, our members’ homes; including Jaz’s place, the clubhouse, and even the garage’s deed. All of it is listed as collateral in this debacle. Tossing mine onto the table and watching Miss pore over the paperwork meticulously, I know if there’s a loophole, he’ll find it.

Not all of us started out as delinquents. Miss was a lawyer at one time in his past. He was a kid from the right side of the tracks with doting parents. I heard that after a situation at the courthouse one day. He left his family, his friends, and his career behind.

“They did offer an option,” Johnson comments, walking closer and closer to the exit. He knows we don’t have weapons in church, but that doesn’t mean we’re not deadly and he’s giving himself room to vacate quickly if needed. “My boss gave you twenty-four hours to decide whether to take it, or jail time and the collapse of your clubs.”

“Nothing like a shotgun wedding. Answer now or forever rot in jail,” Joker snidely remarks.

Ignoring him, I ask, “And that would be?” I’m annoyed by the audacity of guys like Johnson and Johnson’s boss. Men who think were their beck n’ call boys, who will toe the line immediately upon their request, or blackmail, depending on the terms set out. Sure, the deal I struck with the mayor I never intended to follow through on. At least not beyond the initial payment. He owed me for services rendered as I stewed in jail for his illegal enterprises, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t deserving of compensation. At least a little. I only intended to take the seven mil and not take a dime further. In essence, Toni was sold to me for the price of my incarceration.

Pulling me back to the issue at hand, Johnson’s voice rents the air, “Mano wants Murianos’s fight ring to return. The powers above me wish to arrange beneficial monetary terms for a partnership. With Murianos in custody, it means the meeting had been sidelined. We’ve been told through a third party—”

“The CIA, you mean,” Busta interjects.

Rolling his eyes, yet not disagreeing with the comment, Johnson continues, “They want Murianos to supply the fighters and the venue for the fights, and in return, there would be a direct flow of fresh merchandise, for both the sex trade that was lost in the dissolution of the Queen’s assets, and new, hungry fighters for the continued competitions. For the agency, it’s a direct link to and from the EU. They’re interested solely in this venture to shut down the Mano cartel and their pipeline worldwide. Their hope is, a few select unsanctioned businesses in the U.S. could facilitate this, hands off, of course.”

Slamming a heavy hand on the table, kicking his chair out behind him so it rockets into the soft wall behind him, Busta spits through his teeth as he spews his words, “You’re telling us to restart the illegal gun running and flesh trades that we just got out of! So you can take down a bigger ring—and in the meantime—fuck us further?”

I agree, “This can’t be legal? The government is asking us to partake in further illegal dealings they would’ve tossed us in jail for not moments before.”

“We’re not really asking,” Johnson states point-blank. Eyeing me, pointing to Toni, pursing his lips and narrowing his sight, he adds, “You took the money from the mayor, remember? No one asked you to get back into the foray, Death.”

“If we say no, you’ll take all our assets, toss us in jail, and throw away the key. Is that it?” Codero spews the words as if the taste of them is poison in his mouth.

“Yeah. Pretty much.” Standing against the wall, leaning on it, Johnson undoes the buttons on his suit jacket, “Look. I don’t like this any better than the rest of you. I may be the messenger because they know I have a connection to you, but other than that, I have no power in this.”

Joker fumes, “So, we say yes or we’re in cuffs headed straight to jail by noon?”

“We’ve lost more than anyone in this fight, and the government didn’t lose a wink of sleep when our members died fighting your battles.” Miss throws the paperwork showing a level of hatred I’ve never seen from him. “We give up our freedom and livelihoods, or we go along and probably die trying to help you.”

“I hope that isn’t the door number two. I was hoping to have my dick sucked tonight by a pair of redheaded twins, again,” Joker quips.

“Great options.” Miss nervously laughs. “What’s next? You want Busta’s firstborn too?”

“Not at this time.”

“I don’t like how you said that,” Busta growls.

Quirking his head sideways, Joker sets his feet on the table and quips, “I have a feeling you want more than our firstborns, our Harleys, and the women we love to ruin.” Taking a more serious note, he asks, “What else can you do to us that would possibly be worse than what we’ve gone through?”

With a pregnant pause, Johnson’s face loses all color. He’s afraid of what we’re going to say to this last request, and I bet it’s a doozie. “We have Murianos in an undisclosed site. He knows we can’t do it unless we agree to his last request.”

Codero is the first to speak up, “And that is?”

“He’s created a situation we can’t resist, but it leaves us with another issue. We don’t trust his intentions, so we need someone we can trust to keep Murianos in line.”

“Well, if he wants a puppy, I’d get him a puppy,” Joker jests. The room full of us turn to Joker, each giving him a slow blink. Feeling all eyes his way, he shrugs. “What? Fine. You’re right. We can’t give him a puppy.”

Busta growls, “I don’t care if he wants a pony, he’s not getting anything more from us.”

For a slow moment Johnson stays where he stands, still and statuesque. He’s waiting for us to take the bait. For us to be so intrigued that we find ourselves choosing the alternative instead of the offer he’s already given. Thing is, no matter what, he must know we’ll all decline. We’d rather have our clubs destroyed than to give that ball-busting asshole Murianos another ounce of our lives.

Johnson tries to impart the gravity of the situation. “This is next level shit, Busta. We’re dealing with a stronger enemy than all of us combined. This is a group that has roots in Sicily and has Interpol chasing its tail. In under three months, they’ve taken over at least five states, including digging in a major foothold in Chicago. These guys make El Chapo seem like a dolphin in a pool of sharks, and we don’t even know what they look like. Mano is a ghost.” Flipping open his bag, he pulls free a manila folder containing photos. “Let me show you what you’re up against if you choose not to help.” Taking out an iPad, Johnson sets it before us. Playing a couple recent videos along with graphic crime scene photos from San Francisco and Chicago, the content showcases their strength. Their ruthlessness was astounding. They make us look like Boy Scouts.

It’s only been six months since Obi and Gale had died. Six short months since the cartel war we overcame, and now we’re looking to hop right back in to help the FBI, CIA, and DEA to take down the largest cartel out there. Someone has a twisted sense of humor and a higher regard for us than we do. The mafia has moved into our little stretch of heaven, and if we don’t do something downright dirty, they are about to expedite our lives to early graves. That is our future, this? This is our complete destruction.

“That’s what you’ll be contending with on your own, because trust me, if we’re not backing you this time, you’ll all lose. In a matter of weeks, they have already taken over the illegal booze from the Aryan Brotherhood.” He looks directly at me. “And, Death, if you haven’t noticed, the sex trade you gave up, along with the gun running, in Anaheim, San Ped, and San Jo has become relatively quiet as of late. No one is knocking down your door, annoying you to start supplying again.”

He is right and none of us can disagree with his points. The Mano cartel had slid right into our old stomping grounds with the ease of sliding a rock-hard cock into a warm, waiting pussy. Gaining command of the docks, controlling the waterways through strong-arm tactics, and closing out a few of the smaller businesses that dabbled in the market, they are leaving nothing unturned when it comes to illegal shit to do when you get to LA.

“Look.” With a softer tone, less commanding and calmer, Johnson closes his tablet and places it back in his bag, leaving the graphic photos strewn across the table for us to see. “I know what this means for all of you, and how hard this will be to do. Thing is, when there’s a power vacuum there’s always another dragon ready to rear its ugly head in the void left by another.”

They’d taken what we’d done and turned it into a stellar enterprise that made our system seem like a child playing with a box of Lego or toy cars. They’d had nearly everything in place by the time the bullet casings hit the floor in our latest encounter. Back when we were taking down Huesos and Alta, they were already settling in with their potted plants and desk chairs in their new offices.

The worst part of it all wasn’t that we were about to bed the devil, it was we were lying to ourselves when saying it wasn’t a comfortable place to return to. The darker side. The part of ourselves that felt true and real. The one-percent we’d been saying we didn’t need, and didn’t want to need.

I swore I’d keep the club safe but here we are, tossing the men who trust me straight back in the foray. I’d promised my boys we’d be on the up and up from now on. I thought I would be the president they needed. I’m not though, and what pisses me off is, Mayhem was fucking right. Bastard said I needed to watch what was coming, and I bet he knew this was about to bite me in the ass.

Stepping closer to the door once more, Johnson’s voice is low as he holds the handle. “Murianos’s request was for a partner to assist with this all. A collateral in this war. Someone who you’d all give your life for, and who you’d fight like hell to get back.”

“Spit it out, man,” Trigger states. He’d been so quiet I almost didn’t remember he was here.

Blowing out a heavy breath, he sighs. “Jaz.”

Standing, slamming my hands on the table, and wanting no more than to flip the fucking thing over, I find myself shouting, “Not a fucking chance! There’s no way I’ll agree to that monster having my sister in his grasp.”

Quickly joining my answer, Busta firmly states his reply, “No.”

As each of us in turn states the same, Johnson holds a hand up to catch our attention. “Fine then. The government is ready to take everything you own, and each of you will be in jail for the next foreseeable forty years. Unless you choose option A. If you choose option B and fight, each of you will go to jail for what we do know of your past exploits, and Jazmine will go with Murianos anyway. If you go along with this, your sister still goes with Murianos, but you keep your clubs. Your families are safe, and the government forgets your past indiscretions.” Staring at Toni and me, he hands her a second envelope.

“I’m sorry. This is what happens when you are in bed with the intelligence agencies who wish this to move forward.” Pausing and waiting for her to open it, Johnson doesn’t say another word.

Ripping the top off of it, a selection of stacked photos peeks out. Pulling them free, Toni gasps. As I grab it up, even as Cap and Busta call my name, I freeze at what I see. Black-and-white photos fly to the table face down. I’m seething. My hands shake as I extend my fingers and dig them into my hand as I clench. “What the hell is this?”

“Remember it’s not my choice, Death. When they said all family members included, they meant it,” Johnson states it almost apologetically as he turns to Cap, Joker, Miss, and Trigger, handing them each their own tiny white envelopes. Pulling the tops off, staring at their own hidden lives broadcast by the government, their indiscretions, infidelities, secret lives, and unknown histories. Everyone has been put in a position to choose between my sister or their own lives.

Alarmed and clearly afraid, Toni pipes up, “My son is included in this?”

“It’s not just those who are a part of the club. It includes all of your families.” Pausing for a moment he thinks about his next comment, looking down at his watch. “In twenty minutes your father and Carlos are being indicted on racketeering, money laundering, bribery, and a slew of other lesser charges. They’ll be going to jail for a very long time, with or without the outcome of this. It was a stipulation of the deal we’d already struck with the DEA.” Looking at Toni, he holds up a hand. “Before you ask, no. There’s nothing you can do to change that. Your son is in Malibu with a friend. Know that we’ve already been in contact with him. For now, he is free of the blowback from their dealings, as long as the clubs pick the right path.” He turns the door handle to exit. “I’ve been tasked with either your compliance or your disobedience by the end of the day. I pushed for twenty-four hours for you, but they wouldn’t go for it. I have to have your answer by midnight. Personally, I hate the choice you have to make, and I will tell you, I don’t envy you.” Popping the door, his tone is almost despondent and sorrowful.

“My boss and those involved don’t know you as I do, and I appreciate the help you have given already. I know losing your way of life is not an option, but would Jazmine let you? That’s what you really need to ask yourselves.” Without another word, Johnson steps out the door, leaving us with the paperwork, and a great deal of seething anger.

As the door closes behind Johnson, Cap throws his paperwork across the room. As it flutters apart, falling like leaves, he pockets the tiny white envelope in his cut. “How much more do we need to do for them before they fuck right off?”

With a calm I didn’t think any of us possessed at a time like this, Busta asks Miss, “Do we get a choice in this, brother?”

Laying the paperwork on the table in front of him, folding over the legal bullshit and the file Johnson gave him personally, Miss seems ill at ease. Whatever it is Johnson gave him has put him on edge. With his heavy timbered voice, he states, “Sorry, man. No. Not that I can see. They’ve really tied this up tight, Boss.”

“So, we either do as they ask, or we end up doing what we don’t want to anyway. Not really a choice, if you ask me,” Joker clips. Holding his own file aloft, he shouts, “And how did he know about this? I didn't even know. I wanted to, but on my terms, not theirs.”

Strange? But okay.

Every one of us is now on alert. The government knew more about us than we did. Trigger is picking at the skin around his nails—his nervous tell—not to mention Radish is trying to scratch the door down to get to him. Joker tries to seem unnerved, but the lines around his eyes are furrowed and tight. He’s bothered by the news he was shown. And Miss? Miss is distracted. A man who is usually calm under pressure seems anxious and ready to run from church to find out the truth of whatever is in his file.

“Put your fucking feet down, Joker. My brother’s church is not a lounge,” Cap snaps.

With a smile, and that sideways grin of his, Joker does as he’s told super slowly. Under pressure I’ve learned Joker, jokes, kids, or otherwise pisses others off to keep the levity going. It’s all a facade to avoid his own discomfort in the situation.

Breaking the awkward silence, I say what we’re all thinking, “It’s not just us who is taking a chance at jail time, this could reverberate on all of the members. We could be leaving families out in the cold. This is bigger than one club, one person, or one moment. This has the ability to damage us all.”

Cap leans forward, scrubs his fingers through his scalp, and looks my way. “Death, man. This is your fucking sister.”

“She is, but this affects more than just the Army and my family.” Looking at Busta, I know this has to be weighing on him. For a few months now he and Jaz have grown closer. I know his heart is attached to this decision.

“J isn’t someone who’ll take our betrayal well. And this... this is a betrayal, boys,” Miss’s heavy voice states just what I was thinking. “Jaz will rip us all a new one if we involve her without her knowledge. Then again. If we tell her about it, she’ll grab the closest gun and take aim at the softest skin she can find.”

“Gotta say, the woman is crafty,” Joker interjects with a grin.

“Quinny, she was vicious when you went to jail.” Antonia’s soft voice breaks the heavy timbre volumes of ours. She shrugs as we all look her way. “What? She was. I had glue added to my shampoo bottles in PE class, my locker was broken into, and each time it was filled with bags of shit. Like, fresh dog shit.”

I’m surprised by this revelation. “Why didn’t you tell me about it then? I would’ve done something.”

“Quinny, you wouldn’t even speak to me. What makes you think you would’ve somehow miraculously stopped your sister’s systemic torture of me from jail?”

Seeing Miss mouth to Busta, “Quinny?” I roll my eyes and give them a tad more background.

Cursing under my breath, I eye Toni, and blow out a hot breath. “Antonia calls me Quinny for my middle name. Quinlan.”

I can see the boys biting their tongues, badly wishing to rib me for the nickname, but thankfully each let it lie.

“So.” Drawing out the word, Joker quips, “Aside from nicknames, anyone have any fucking idea what we do about the elephant in the room?” Placing his feet on the nearest chair again, smirking and clearly content no one is ribbing him for the foot position this time. “I mean. I don’t know your sister as well as some, but I doubt she’s about to let someone roll her out of her home straight into the arms of the man who was integral in the demise of her best friend. Jus’ sayin’.”

“I don’t like to agree when Joker clearly has his feet where they shouldn’t be,” Miss growls, knocking Joker’s feet back to the floor. “But yeah. I don’t see your sister letting this go without someone taking a bullet.”

Looking at Busta, seeing the war he’s waging inside about this whole fiasco, I have to say he is unusually quiet. In the grand scheme of things, his baby daughter would not only lose her mother and brother before her first birthday, but her father would go to jail, and she’d be placed in foster without ever knowing the truth of her life.

My son. He wouldn’t be any better off. He would lose the cushy life he’s lived, thrust into a juvenile detention center all because of his grandfather’s and father’s interactions.

“This isn’t going to sit well with Jaz,” Busta states, “but do we have a choice?”

“Choice?” speaking out, Piper’s normally meek voice rings out in a high-pitched fever against our thicker tones. “There has to be. Indentured servitude is never the right thing. No matter who puts you there, family or foe, it hurts all the same.”

“Baby. This is a terribly different situation. This isn’t me in a box, or you a slave to the Queen, this is a trade-off. She still has a way out, and a team of agents behind her to pull her free if things get rough. She’s undercover, and it’s more in our court than it ever was in yours.” Hoping to placate Piper, Cap is hoping to soothe her. We all know the stories of her life with the Queen. We have seen the scars she bears. That Cap bears. It’s a lot.

I can’t find myself siding with Piper and, unfortunately, I have to agree with Cap. “He’s right. “We were told they want us involved and they want Jaz to draw out this Mano, but that doesn’t mean we can’t set the terms of the deal. Setting a timeframe. Maybe we can arrange one of us as her bodyguard detail? One of the lesser-known boys. Even someone from your northern clubs, Busta.”

With a simple shake of his head, he says, “I don’t see that Johnson will have the power to pull that string. He more than likely had to promise our compliance to get them to not throw charges at us for all the shit we’ve recently pulled. Taking all of our assets and leaving us to rot for the war we just raged in the city, I see that was more the higher-up’s plans. I’m sure Johnson went to bat for us as it is.” Standing, he paces behind his chair. “We may be able to adjust the terms, but the overall run of this is going to be their decision.” Looking my way, Busta asks, “We need to vote this. Then at least she can’t think it was just a show of slight hands that decided her fate.”

Considering that, as her brother, I can make the call to imprison her, I know I don’t like it. What I have to do as a President, for this I’d need a full vote. Looking at my watch, seeing it is now coming on three thirty in the afternoon, I suggest, “Let’s meet at nine for a full vote. An all-club church. We can meet out at the docks at the storage facility on pier forty-nine. We’ll hammer this out one way or another.”

“That sounds good,” Cap says, rising out of the chair and stepping to shake my hand. “I don’t envy you, brother,” he says as we clasp. “Your sister is one tough woman, and she will not make this easy on you.”

“Can’t say I’m looking forward to the conversation either.”

Pulling a section of thick moustache into his mouth to worry on the bristly hairs, Miss replies with a simple wordless nod.

Rising and heading to the door, Joker smirks, “It seems like we might be going to jail or set up as traitors, so I’m going to get my dick sucked hard by at least three women. I want a good memory before the bad ones start.”

Miss stands. “And with that, I think I just might finish what I had started before you interrupted me.”

“I’ll see you soon,” I state, smiling and turning to Toni, as she acknowledges our departure with a slow blink.

Moving to leave, as my hand hits the handle for the door, and Toni passes out before me, Cap calls back, “Death. I don’t wish to be you.”

Cap’s words are truer than I want them to be. I’ll need all the luck I can get to navigate my sister’s revenge. Whatever we all decide, she is going to make our lives a living hell.