Chapter Six
Pacino
“This can’t be everything.”
I glance up at Zep from across the table and shake my head. There is nothing that will ever be enough for him to accept this. “It is, man.”
“No, there has to be more.”
“That’s everything on the GPD server.”
Flipping through the pages, he doesn’t do much to hide his displeasure. I know he was hoping for a smoking gun. Something that says the Venom killed Johnny, and the GPD helped cover it up. But there’s nothing.
Honestly, I don’t believe it was just a simple hit-and-run accident, either, but I can’t prove it. And it’s going to cost Zep his sanity if he keeps trying to find something that isn’t there.
“They didn’t document everything. We know they’re on the Venom’s payroll. It’s the only reason they’re not all serving time in prison for dealing Venom Dust.”
It’s true. The fucking club makes Venom Dust—a mix of meth and fentanyl—in the desert.
In what they call “snake pits,” and they distribute through snake bite kits and tattoo ink bottles.
They really like to stick with the snake venom symbolism.
And the goal is to get someone to ride the snake bite, and they’ve got a client for life.
Their life. Because it inevitably kills them.
I shrug and sigh. “Maybe.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
His anger turns to me quickly, and I have to talk myself down. Zep’s big, and he’s tough, but I’m bigger and tougher. If he picks a fight, he won’t win. I don’t care how much passion he has behind the fist, the only way he could beat me would be to blow my brains out.
And he’d never get his gun out fast enough to pull the trigger.
“You don’t think they killed Johnny, do you?” Zep spits at me.
“I don’t know,” I say.
Laughing without any humor, he leans back in his chair and shakes his head. “I can’t fucking believe you.”
The rest of the club hasn’t joined us yet, and I wish they’d hurry up.
The last thing I want to do is fight with Zep.
And I know it’s best to shut this down as soon as possible.
Otherwise, he ends up riled up, pitching the idea that we ride into the night and kill anyone and everyone wearing the Black Venom kutte.
“I know you believe it—”
“I know it, Pacino!” he shouts. “They fucking did this!”
“Then prove it.”
“I’m fucking trying!”
Shaking my head, I just stare at him. “How much time are you investing in this, Z? How far are you going to go? What are you going to end up giving up to prove something that may never be able to be proven?”
“As far as I have to. And if I have to give up shit for it, so be it. Johnny would do the same for me.”
Except… he wouldn’t. And didn’t.
He should’ve killed Butch when he found out Butch raped Jolene, but he didn’t. He declared him an enemy. Started a decades-long war, but he didn’t risk his family.
I choose to keep my mouth shut. Zeppelin Molloy is wound up to the point he’s ready to pop off. And it’s impossible to get him to listen when he’s like this. It’s like how we tried to explain the risks of his always letting Chanel back in the door whenever she needed a good railing.
Speaking of Chanel, I need to ask around and find out what she’s doing now. Last we heard, Dorian dumped her ass when he found her at Zep’s house when she told Zep she still loved him. That had to have stung.
But he was stupid to think he could ever tame her. She’s like a wild mustang.
“You got something to say?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Yeah the fuck you do. Just say it.”
No one else has bothered to show up, and I hate the habitual tardiness of my goddamn brothers. “Fine, but you’re not gonna like it.”
“Spit it out.”
“Johnny wouldn’t give up everything to get justice because he didn’t. Not back then, and he wouldn’t do it now. You have a lot more to lose now, and what we believe or think doesn’t matter if we can’t fucking prove it.”
“Pacino—”
“No, you told me to say it, so you gotta fucking listen. I get it. And I have my own opinions on the accident ruling, too, but you have a family. A woman carrying your baby and a nine-year-old waiting for you at home. To risk losing them because you won’t let up on this gut feeling you have is really fucking stupid. ”
He clenches his jaw and shoots daggers at me. “If Johnny had killed Butch, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“No, you wouldn’t be here right now. The difference between you and Johnny is that he understood risks and made decisions accordingly. He had too much to lose starting a war he wasn’t positive he could win. You’re in the same fucking boat, man. Learn from him.”
To his credit, he takes this in stride. “I liked it better when you didn’t fucking talk.”
I snort. “You pushed me.”
Normally, I don’t have much to say. Not outside of business. But Phoebe’s been under my roof for three days now, and I’m worried she’s rubbing off on me. She asks about my day and tells me about hers. Forces the conversation out of me.
The rest of the club finally filters in, and I’m cursing every one of them in my mind. But it might’ve been the best outcome. Zep’s calmed down, and I just hope he sees beyond his tunnel vision soon.
Jethro looks around at us. “I don’t have much.
The Venom have kept a low profile since the attack on Misty, so everyone stay diligent.
Keep an eye out. And let’s up security on the businesses.
Especially at Velvet. I don’t give a fuck about the gym equipment, but we need to make sure our girls are safe. ”
There’s no argument, and we all agree. More business gets discussed, but there’s nothing urgent or pressing. It’s one of the rare times club life can be described as boring.
Maybe uneventful is the better description.
“Pacino, any update on the SUV?” Jethro asks.
Shaking my head, I sigh. “Just a shit ton of shell companies. I’m about forty-three in, and I still have no fucking idea where it originated.”
“Mob,” Capone says. “No one else would go that far to hide a vehicle.”
That one word says it’s the truth. If we’ve both come to the conclusion—with our histories—there’s no other option. “But which one?”
“That’s a you question, brother.”
I snort. “Phoebe’s not involved with the mob. Trust me. I looked into her. She’s remarkably unremarkable. There’s literally nothing that ties her to any nefarious businesses. And before anyone asks, there are no drugs. I fucking searched through her shit.”
“You did?” Zep asks, fighting his smile.
“Yeah, I needed to find out if there’s something altering her to be that fucking cheery. It’s… completely natural. Just the way she’s programmed.”
“Maybe it’s topical?” Kannon offers. “I mean, no one is that happy without some shit altering their brain.”
I shrug. I literally searched everything she has. “Nothing. I can’t figure it out, either.”
“Are you losing your mind?” Penn Calloway asks. “I mean, it’s gotta be hard being with someone literally the complete opposite of you.”
Narrowing my eyes, I turn in my seat to face him. “What does that mean?”
“Well, I just mean that she’s… you know… happy. And you’re… not.”
“I’m not happy?”
Everyone bursts out laughing, and even I have to crack a smile. No one would ever describe me as happy.
As annoyed as I come across, I can’t deny that it’s been nice having Phoebe at the house. More than that, I’ve heard her moans in the middle of the night, and I don’t think she realizes she does that in her sleep. It’s helped me jack off to hear her most nights.
“It’s fine,” I say.
“I love the food, don’t get me wrong, but should we even be involved?” Rooster asks. “This isn’t really a club thing, is it?”
And there it is. I knew it’d come up eventually. “You guys don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. She’s a client of mine, so—”
“We’ll handle it,” Jethro jumps in. “It’s club adjacent.”
He gives me a look that says something I don’t quite understand. Does he think there’s something more going on between Phoebe and me than there is? Just because I’ve never let a woman into my home before doesn’t mean we’re dating.
We just get off in separate rooms of the house. I can only hope she’s thinking of me as she does, same as I think of her as I do.
My phone rings, and I see Scotty’s name. “Yeah?”
“SUV’s back at the bakery. We got a bunch of kids inside here, Pacino,” Scotty’s voice comes through on speaker.
“Let’s go,” Jethro says, slamming the gavel on the table.
I lead the way to the bakery regardless of the proper formation. I just hope nothing has happened. Scotty’s taser won’t do much good to protect a room full of kids if there’s more than one person. Not to mention what Phoebe would likely do to protect everyone.
Pulling into the lot, the SUV peels away, and I notice the plate is different. Capone manages a photo on his phone, and I hope it captured the entire number. Maybe it’ll lead me to the owner this time.
“I got the kids out safely,” Scotty says, meeting me outside. “But Sarah’s freaking out. What the fuck is going on?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him with full honesty.
There is nothing I can find that would explain Phoebe being in danger. She’s clean. Cleaner than clean.
“Tucker,” Phoebe says, and I hate how frightened she looks. “Hi, guys.”
“Hey,” Rooster says. “Are you okay? And do you have any of those tarts?”
Punching him the arm, Zep glares. “Seriously?”
Better Zep than me. I’d have broken his fucking arm.
“Yeah, I’ll grab you some,” Phoebe says. “Tucker, can I talk to you in the back for a moment?”
Sarah walks into the lobby and lets out a shaky breath. “I’ll get them for him.”
“Thanks.”
We walk into the back, and her change in the normally sunny demeanor worries me. “What’s up, Yellow Crayon?”
“I’m scared for Sarah. And I don’t want to lose her, so I think I’m going to take you up on the offer to get a security system. The highest level you have with the panic button. I’ll figure out how to pay for it.”
Frowning, I stare at her. “Scared for Sarah?”
“Monsters don’t frighten me, but they do her. And I don’t want her to quit because I don’t think she’ll finish school if she does. She has a lot of talent.”
“Monsters don’t scare you?”
“I’ve seen enough to know they’re mostly just masks and scare tactics. Besides, I’ve been through worse than these guys can probably do. She hasn’t. And I need her to feel safe.”
This makes me uneasy. She’s seen monsters. She’s been through worse than whatever she imagines these guys plan on doing, and I doubt her thoughts immediately go to tickle fights. “Phoebe, is there any chance you know who this could be? Who’d be watching you?”
Shaking her head, she shrugs. “I have no idea. Aside from Sarah, Scotty, and you, the only people I talk to on a semi-regular basis are customers. And I doubt any of my customers have ties to anything bad.”
“No ex-boyfriends who might want to harm you? Or bosses? Someone you’ve rubbed the wrong way and would have a vendetta?”
She shakes her head again. “Trust me, the few ex-boyfriends I have wouldn’t come looking for me. For anything. I don’t have much of a job history.”
“What about someone you fired?”
“Sarah’s my first employee.”
“What about the monsters you said you’ve seen and aren’t scared of? Could they be back for you?”
Swallowing, she looks into my eyes, unsettling me. “My monsters are all dead.”
“Are you sure?”
Phoebe nods. “Positive.”
“Okay, well, how about we start with a list of your customers in town? The ones you have standing orders for. Maybe it’s tied to them, and we can get it figured out quickly.”
“I thought you might want that, so I printed them out with the contacts I work with. You probably know them all, though.”
She’s probably right. And I don’t know of anyone in town who has ties to the mob. Maybe the Venom do, but there’d be no reason for them to target Phoebe.
“We’ll figure it out, okay? And I’ll have Scotty install the system tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you.”
I don’t like this change in her, and I know I’m not going to charge her for the system. Not yet. Seeing her like this is too disheartening, and all I want to do is make her feel safe again. Happy. Cheery.
Who the fuck would’ve thought I’d want that?