Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
K ent stared back at his older brother, keeping his expression hard. “I’m doing good.”
Wraith gave him a wry smile. “Damn. You still pissed at me? Get over it already.”
His behavior didn’t thaw. “I got over you not letting me join the Phantoms a long time ago.”
“Does it feel as if Creed got over it?” he asked Sandman.
“Nope. He still sounds like a whiney baby,” Sandman jeered.
“Fuck you,” Creed snarled, taking a step toward Sandman.
Wraith burst into laughter, stopping him mid-step.
Bringing himself to a hard stop, Creed sucked in a breath of the cool night air. “I see you’re still a dick.”
Sandman shrugged, unconcerned at the insult. “Which all my bitches beg for.”
Creed curled his lip. “There’s no accounting for taste.”
“Maybe I should have a go at some of your bitches to see if I can tell the difference.”
“They’d take one look at you and call the cops.”
Amusement filled Sandman’s grim features. “Think so? I don’t.”
Creed didn’t think so, either. He had just said it to piss Sandman off, which he had learned was impossible. The brother didn’t ever let his emotions get carried away enough to get angry.
Slinging the gym bag strap over his shoulder, Sandman went to his bike, where he transferred the jewelry into his saddlebag.
“You must be keeping track of the new recruits to have recognized Sarge.” Wraith kicked a piece of broken glass away from his tire.
“Just because I don’t talk to you, doesn’t mean I don’t talk to Lynx.”
“Fuck, she can never keep her mouth shut.”
“Or…” he suggested, “you could never bar her from the club.”
Wraith gave a low laugh. “She isn’t as easy to get rid of as you were.”
His hands clenched in his jacket pocket. “You threatened to get Sandman to slit my throat if I didn’t leave.”
“I wanted you to go to college,” Wraith said unrepentantly.
“You were too smart to waste your life hanging out at the club. I’m not as smart as you.
I gave you a way out before it was too late.
Besides, you knew I wouldn’t have killed you.
Sandman would have just given you a scar to remember what happens when you tell me no. ”
Creed looked at him like he was crazy. “You know you’re fucked up, right?”
A harsh sound filled the air. “Tell me something I don’t know. You want to tell me you’re not?”
Clenching his jaw, Creed remained silent.
“I guess not.” Wraith let his harsh facade drop, showing him the brother he had grown up idolizing.
“I don’t give a fuck if you hate me. I made the right decision.
You had too much smart inside of you to piss your life away.
You would have been doing hard time before you were twenty.
What I don’t get is why you’re still so pissed off.
You make a shit ton of money using that education you swore you didn’t want.
I wish you’d quit doing shit like you did tonight, but I guess I can’t have it all. ”
Creed didn’t drop his own facade, still angry about the choice that had been made for him.
“I guess not.” Creed nodded his head to where Sandman was closing his saddlebag. “Who do you have for a buyer?”
“I have it taken care of.” Wraith easily slipped back into the emotionless bastard Creed was more familiar with.
“The cops are going to be on the lookout for those pieces. Kaston Castillo has placed a huge reward to find out who is responsible for stealing his property.”
“I didn’t steal them; I’m fencing them.” Unconcerned, Wraith took out a pack of cigarettes.
“Castillo is smart. You fence that jewelry to the wrong person,” he warned, “he’ll find out who he bought them from before he kills them.”
“Fucker shouldn’t have put his shit in a storage unit.” Lighting the cigarette, Wraith blew the smoke in his direction.
“He received information that the FBI was about to execute a warrant on his residence. It was supposed to be for a couple of days. Whoever broke into his house was good, but they will get caught. Castillo has offered a hundred grand for the information as to who it was.”
“Then I’m glad I’m not the one who stole them.” Wraith took another drag of his cigarette. “Should I be worried you’re going to snitch to him I bought them?”
“No.”
Wraith dropped his cigarette to the ground, grounding it out under the heel of a boot.
“Aren’t you afraid of being caught with the necklace?” he countered.
“No. I’m smart enough to cover my tracks. I’m not afraid, because the necklace I took didn’t belong to Castillo. I know who it belongs to. If you don’t want me to tell you who the buyer is, let me handle the sale so it won’t lead back to the Phantoms.”
“I’ll consider your offer.” Wraith went to where Sandman was retrieving the empty gym bag, then brought it back to him.
“Wraith, listen to me; you don’t want to draw Castillo’s attention. He’s an evil motherfucker.”
“You should take your own advice and let Castillo hire another lawyer.”
It would be easier to put his head through a cement block rather than convince Wraith of anything once his mind was made up.
Resigned, he started walking back to his car.
“Text Sarge I’m heading back with Mica. I don’t want to get shot by a trigger-happy recruit worried because I’m a few minutes late.”
“Will do,” Wraith called out, getting on his bike. “By the way, in case you forgot, my birthday is next weekend. I could use an extra bike.”
Grinding his teeth, Creed strode back to his car, resuming the role he had learned was more acceptable to the world he lived in now.
As he drove through the open metal gates, Kent took a second to make sure he wasn’t being followed before checking out a pale-faced Mica. “You okay?”
Mica wiped the sweat away from his forehead despite the air conditioner going full blast. “I’m never doing that again.”
They always said that the first time someone put themselves in a risky situation.
Only a few learned from the experience and never endangered themselves again.
He had a feeling Mica wouldn’t be one of the few.
He might not have done the guy a favor by accepting the job.
It might have been better to let Wraith fuck him up badly enough to put his ass in the hospital.
Mica was lucky this time; he might not be the next time.
Regardless of how awesome or smart you thought you were at surviving in the underworld of crime, shit happened when you least expected it.
That was how so many who lived the life ended up an unrecognizable corpse in a morgue.
The trick was to have an ace in a hole, which could be used in a dire emergency.
Using that trick more than once to save his own life, he always kept one.
He hoped, since Wraith had taught him that lesson, he should be good, Kent told himself.
Despite telling himself that, his gut told him Wraith had bitten off more than he could chew.
Kaston Castillo showed no mercy to anyone who betrayed him and those who unwarily got caught in the crossfire.
God Himself couldn’t help Wraith if Castillo found out he had bought the jewelry.
The mob boss was his own judge, jury, and executioner, and not even the gates of hell were able to hold him back when he sought revenge.
There was only one recourse: run … fast and far … and pray he didn’t catch you.