Chapter 23
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Brew
“What the fuck, G?” Bane paces as his brother tries to reason with him. “You fucked up, brother, you fucked up big time.”
“Like I said,” Gareth interjects. “It isn’t what it looks like. I might be broke, but I’m no liar.”
I fold my arms over my chest, unimpressed. “Sure you didn’t just give us names and addresses to save your own hide?”
“If that were true, you’d have killed me by now.”
He isn't wrong. It’s only because of Cash’s orders that we’re still standing here, out of a courtesy to Bane.
The last thing Prez wants is upsetting the apple cart when it comes to the Ridgehaven Hellions.
It sucks but there isn’t much I can do about it.
If I worked alone, he’d be at the bottom of the bayou by now.
“Prospects say nobody has been to or from that house since they arrived,” Cash says. I can see he’s on the fence too with believing Gareth’s testimony. “It’s likely there’s nobody at that address, or they got wind of your betrayal.”
“That’s the location,” he maintains. “I was working to try and stop an abduction at the station, you saw the footage.”
I can’t deny that that is what it looked like, still, do I trust this asshole? No fucking way.
“If you’re yankin’ my chain,” Cash warns. “Not even your brother is gonna be able to save you.”
“I told you before,” Gareth pleads. “I heard Brew and Haze were the ones to talk to in this city. Fuck knows I can’t do this myself.
The authorities don’t care. I get Callaghan is cleanin’ up the city, but that takes time.
There are still corrupt cops in the force no matter how good the pretty boy Mayor is. ”
“Watch your tongue,” Cash warns. “That’s my son you’re talkin’ about.”
“What he meant was, he’s been an asshole and he’s beggin’ for leniency, he’s also not lyin’, right, G?” Bane cocks a brow at his younger brother.
“I wouldn’t involve you if I was lyin’, or didn’t want an end to all of this shit,” Gareth goes on. “This is so much bigger than you and I.”
I frown. Just when I thought most of the scum was run out of New Orleans, they arrive overnight to start up again somewhere else. That’s how this operation works.
The fact we’re only just hearing about it tells me The Grid is getting better and better at infiltrating. “If you know The Grid so well, then why did you wait to be sprung before revealin’ who you were?” I say.
“I’d been askin’ around about you for weeks, Big Papa knows,” Gareth goes on. Of course, I already know that, but throwing him off just a little might speed this along.
I for one don’t have time to sit around and play footsies with this giant pain in the ass.
“Don’t know if you know this, but the two of you are kinda hard to pin down,” he adds.
I grunt. Haze glances at me. I can tell he’s thinking what I’m thinking, but what I really wanna do is bust down that house and drag those heathens out and question them. And when I say question them, I mean torture them into submission.
“Not how we do things around here,” Cash barks. “You don’t just waltz into our territory and start playin’ goddamn fuckin’ McGyver. Not to mention involvin’ Big Papa. You know you were this close to him cuttin’ your balls off?”
“If I’d wanted to try and get away with somethin’, I would’ve told you about my brother from the get go,” Gareth’s explains. “I didn’t want to involve him.”
Bane, taking a stance similar to mine, is still frowning. “You know I’m standin’ right here,” he says. “And all you had to do was pick up the fuckin’ phone, asswipe.”
There’s some bad blood between them, and while I don’t know what that is, I can sure as shit guess that it ain’t good. One thing I know for sure is to stay out of other people’s business, especially when it comes to brotherly love.
Gareth clings to the bars, his frustration evident. “I knew if I did that, it would become your problem, and I didn’t want that.”
“A bit too late for that,” Bane grumbles. “You better fuckin’ hope this shit works out, or it won’t just be them you’re answerin’ to.”
Gareth and Bane share a look I know only too well; it’s one I’ve shared with my own siblings a number of times.
We know Bane is always gonna side with his brother when all’s said and done, no matter what, but the frustration between them is evident.
Whatever shit they have to work out, that’s on them, but I’m tired of sitting around waiting for something to happen.
“Might have some good news finally, boss,” Stella interrupts as we all turn when she enters the room. “Just got word from the prospects, some movement at the location finally.” She smiles her little smile.
“Good work,” Cash says. “Tell them to keep out of sight until we send backup. How many are there?”
“Just two,” she replies.
I don’t miss the slight smirk on Gareth’s face as if to say ‘see, told you so,’ but he better hope for his sake that this pans out. Squashing this quickly and quietly is our number one priority, even if everyone knows nobody is getting away with shit in New Orleans. Not as long as I’m involved.
Cash immediately turns to me. “If I tell you to stay away, will you?”
I give him a pointed look. “Soundin’ a lot like you don’t trust me. Have I ever let you down before?”
“No, but I also know you. Can’t go in guns blazin’,” Cash says as if I don’t already know how it works.
Maybe my Prez has forgotten what I used to do before I joined the NOLA Rebels.
I never do anything on impulse. I act on my gut, yes, but it’s planned out, and I never go swooping in, as much as I’d like to.
“Don’t have to remind me,” I grunt. “Ain’t my first rodeo, Prez.”
“Take over from the prospects, send Sawyer over to plant some cameras,” he says. “If we don’t get anythin’ from that, then you’ll have to make the call, but keep them alive. Nobody’s gonna say shit when they’ve got a bullet in their brains.”
“He understands, right, bro?” Haze whacks me on the back.
“Like I said, not my first rodeo.”
I hate stake outs.
Sitting in an unmarked van across the street from potential Grid members is infuriating as it is boring. While Cash said not to go in guns blazing, this just feels counterproductive.
We don’t know shit, and the wireless cameras haven't shown anything newsworthy.
Just two dudes sitting around. I’ve found over the years one of two things happens during this tedious process; we wait until more assholes arrive and then raid the joint, or we sit it out and follow them.
It’s easier to follow them then grab them and prize the information from them, and a lot less bloody.
Most of the guys working for The Grid on this level are merely pawns, but it’s the big guys we want to hit the most.
And I still have one on my hit list. The man who organized Valencia’s murder.
He gave the okay, and the slippery sucker isn’t an easy one to find.
Involvement with the cartel is only the beginning of opening a giant can of worms. When I do find him, I’ll be sure to give him the same treatment he gave Valencia.
It isn’t just for her memory why I do this, it’s to shut down this operation once and for all.
We may be fighting a losing battle, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop.
“You good?” Haze glances at me, sensing my frustration.
“Yeah.”
“Liar. I know you wanna go in there, but think about it. Last time we did that, things got messy, and I ruined that new pair of shoes I just bought.”
I side eye him. “You did not just complain about shoes when we’re talkin’ about people’s lives.”
“What I mean is, preparation is key.”
“You think I forgot all my trainin’, dickface? Why does everyone around here treat me like I’m a toddler who’ll spit the pacifier out when he doesn’t get his own way?”
“Maybe because it’s true?”
“Shut the fuck up. Why am I always stuck on a stakeout with you, anyway?”
“Would you prefer a prospect?” he snickers. “I don’t think so.”
“At least if I told them to shut the fuck up they’d have to listen to me.”
“Don’t get your panties in a knot. I say we give it twenty-four hours, if they don’t leave, we go in and take ‘em to the warehouse.”
There’s a danger in moving too quickly. If we do nab them, then the others who are part of this syndicate will know about it sooner or later, and they’ll realize something is up. Keeping a ‘business as usual’ status has never been more apparent than right now, even if it’s giving me a nervous tick.
I sigh. “Whatever.”
“Don’t have to sulk, we all know how you like to drag out the questionin’.”
Of course, Haze has been by my side at every single interrogation; he knows how I operate.
“That’s because I’m good at it.”
“If you were good, you wouldn’t be draggin’ it out for hours, would you?”
I shake my head, pinching the bridge of my nose.
We both know the reason I drag shit out, and it’s because I enjoy it.
Call me a sick bastard, I don’t care. It’s what I’m good at.
The way I see it is these assholes could’ve chosen to do anything in life, and they chose to do this.
I have no sympathy, and certainly not any hesitation when it comes to seeking the truth. Maybe that’s my calling.
I think about Erica and what she would think of me if she saw me in action.
She’d be horrified. That instinct inside her that tells her to run wouldn’t be wrong, she should run.
This dark world is no place for her, but she chose to work for us, knowing being associated with the MC and the Nomad Brothers can mean bad things.
It’s just the way of things. Another part of me wants to believe she’s resilient, and she’d understand my plight.
She did, after all, have a husband who was involved in one of the biggest trafficking operations in Iowa, so I know she’s hardened to some of that.
Erica is tougher than I give her credit for.
This is a woman who actually evaded the Chicago mafia.
I want to hear more about that, about how she did it.
Oh, I know the reasons why, and I admire her for that, even if it meant leaving Olive with Amber.
She did what she thought was right as a mother.
Protecting the innocent is the only job we have to do.
I may not be a father, but I understand.
If I ever have a kid someday, there isn’t hell or high fury that I won’t cross to make sure they’re safe.
I can’t even imagine what it would be like to hold my own child.
Sometimes the idea scares me because I know the cruelty and unfairness of the world.
At some point, we all get hurt. We all get burned in one form or another, and that would gut me.
“Let’s agree on twenty-four hours, the prospects can take back over tonight, and if anythin’ crazy happens we’ll be ready,” I say.
I’m cranky because I haven’t been at the office as much this week, and that means I haven’t been able to see Erica.
“Should we talk about what happened with Olive and her signin’ the other day?” Haze says. I’m surprised he even remembered that, we hadn’t spoken of it.
“Nothin’ to talk about.”
“You gonna teach her some?”
“No.”
“Why not? Seems a little harsh.” He shrugs.
“Because I’m not a fuckin’ teacher, that’s why.
” I look out the window. I’m being an asshole, I know that, but signing is something I learned so I could communicate with a beautiful woman I wanted to spend my life with.
A woman who was murdered in cold blood because of me. I’ll never want to relive that.
“You torture yourself,” Haze mutters. He’s always been good at reading me. “You need to stop doin’ that. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
I’ve heard it over and over through the years, but it doesn’t matter what he says, what anyone says. I won’t rest until they’re all dead.
“Fuck off.” My words hold no weight behind them. “You take the first shift, I need to sleep.”
I close my eyes and dream of a life where none of this is my reality.