Chapter 3
The Night Before
"No luck," Whistle announced with slumped shoulders. "Fucking Griffin really did fuck us over."
Lucky and Whistle were huddled up at the bar in the back, drinking as they sat there, feeling defeated.
Contessa, who maintained their inventory for sales, huffed and dragged her hand through her hair as she sat with them.
She couldn't believe what she'd heard. Lucky could barely stare at her, but he decided he might as well level with the others because it impacted them, too.
"He fucked himself over," Lucky corrected him. "We'll bounce back. We have no choice, but that doesn't mean he gets a fucking pass."
His eyes floated to Whistle, silently issuing a message.
He hadn't worked out all the details, but more was on the line than the fifty grand they lost to Griffin.
He stood to lose his entire farm, even the mechanic shop.
He didn't even factor in the free pantry they ran to help those who couldn't afford to keep their refrigerators stocked.
"What do we do until then?" Contessa probed. "The pantry's running low, too."
"Push out more produce and shipping," Luck replied. "Use some volunteers."
"And the mechanic shop?" she asked when he shot daggers in his direction.
That was his labor of love, and where his Starlah thrived. It wasn't a moneymaker. They pretty much repaired friends' vehicles solely for the cost of parts, occasionally for labor, but that was how huge Lucky's heart was.
"The mechanic shop will operate as is. Starlah will continue to hold it down, and it keeps her busy."
"So we keep giving our services away. Got it," Contessa muttered when Whistle hummed, silently, begging her to back off. "It's true, Whistle. We're stretching ourselves thin, and then this."
"I know."
Lucky grabbed a shot of whiskey and tossed it back. They were out for hours until Whistle encouraged them all to head back to Pellum.
"Can't penalize others for my fuck up. Maybe I'll sell some cattle. Put out some feelers, Tessa. See if we sell half and keep half, if that would help."
"No one's selling livestock. It's something that keeps on giving. Calves are still being fed by their mothers, and the pigs, too. Even the chickens reproducing is a sure way to stay above water if we cut back on other shit, Lucky," Whistle argued.
"It's my call, Whistle. Tessa, do as I say. I would rather pay Choppa off sooner than later so he can get off my ass. Rides by the farm at least once a week, tips his hat, then speeds off. Arrogant fucker. Sell half the damn cattle."
"Fine." She lifted both hands. "If that's all, it's late, and me and this guy need to head home."
She looked at Whistle, whose hair was starting to thin out. She knew he was stressed, but keeping secrets like this from her wasn't something he'd ever done before.
"You're ready? You too, Lucky?"
"I guess, but let's drink another round," Whistle suggested.
As he waved the waitress over, Lucky stood up.
"Tomorrow, let's put our ear to the streets. Somebody knows where that fucker is. He's probably cutting other deals with our fucking money. Let me take a leak. Be right back."
"Tell me about it," Whistle added.
"Here."
Lucky tossed a few twenties on the table to cover the tab, even though it was Whistle's idea to have another round.
No matter how tight money was, he was a man who believed in paying his way.
It was also something he tried to instill in Creed and Starlah, despite the areas where he fell short, which was why he needed to save the farm… for his children.
As he made his way to the restroom, his friend and lawyer, Logan, was sitting at the bar.
Logan had a massive lawsuit he was preparing for against the city after contaminated water near an apartment complex had made all the residents ill.
He had plenty of money, but he didn't specialize in making more money.
He specialized in getting results. After leaving the house of a widow who had four children, he headed to Jessie's Tavern to get a drink.
"Hey, there." Logan tipped his hat and waved him over. "It's kind of late. I didn't expect to see you here," Logan spoke, his eyes narrowed, peering through the crowd to see who Lucky was with. "Celebrating anything?"
"Pfft. I fucking wish, but naw. Just shooting the shit. What has you out so late?"
"Client shit. Huge lawsuit."
"I hope you win but let me run to the restroom. I can't hold it like I used to." Lucky patted Logan on the shoulder and took off, a sign his bladder had seen better days.
Still, Logan felt something was off with his friend.
He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew he'd come to him about possibly selling the farm the year or so before, then updated his will.
They had planned to set up some time to speak about it, but Lucky never made time for that to happen.
He wondered then if he needed to follow up.
While Lucky was in the restroom, Contessa sat with Whistle on pins and needles.
She'd never seen them both so stressed, causing a strain not only on business but also between her and Whistle.
She loved Whistle, but there were times he was more invested in Lucky and his children than their own relationship.
Sadly, she was starting to resent their friendship, even wanting to give him an ultimatum.
"Are you sure we will be fine?" Contessa probed once Lucky had rounded the corner. "It seems that each time he fucks up, you fuck up. I'm not questioning your loyalty, but I am questioning if you think following his lead is safe. I've been hearing things."
"Like the fuck what?" Whistle spat when she shushed him. "I'm saying, what have you heard, Tess? When you hear some shit, I need to know."
"Just stuff that he ain't paying his debts." She shrugged, then lifted her shot of tequila and tossed it back. "You don't think he's skimming off the profits and not paying people, are you?"
"That's my goddamn best friend. He'd never do no shit like that, and if he did, I would know.
The streets are upset because he ain't lending a helping hand like he usually does.
How, when we're barely making ends meet?
The next time the streets want to talk, tell them to lend a fucking hand themselves. "
"Sorry, Whist… I'm just scared of losing you. Everyone ain't always looking to help, and Lucky's been on edge. I ain't ever seen him like this before."
"Me either, Tess." Whistle was worried, especially because he felt Lucky was a ticking time bomb. "Come here."
He roped his arm around her neck, planting a kiss on her temple. He knew Tessa's concerns were valid because he'd never question Lucky's judgement, but as of late, that's all he did.
"Just keep me in the loop."
"Sure," was all he offered. He wanted to tell her Creed was involved, but she'd be on his ass, especially because he was like a second father to him.
"I'm serious, Whistle. And you need to speak up. Don't just let Lucky run around like a loose cannon. He's gone through four shots already."
"I will. Just need to let him clear his head, sleep it off."
As "Easy Whispers" by Eli, a new artist from Louisiana, came on, Whistle softly sang in her ear. He knew Contessa was pissed, but he had to keep her at bay before she detected his bullshit.
"Mhmm. That's what Lucky needs. Poor Endea chases that fool so much. She called me earlier, and I couldn't even tell her we were coming here for drinks. Lucky's just dragging her along."
"He likes her. Just won't give her what she really wants."
"Then she needs to put her foot down like I do with you. After whatever this is going on, we need to revisit what the next year or two looks like. We may not have children, but I want to travel and create memories and all with you, but I barely can because the farm comes first."
"Wait a minute, now. It's the same farm that takes care of our needs. I'm a lot of things, but a quitter ain't one of 'em. If you're about to start that shit about Lucky coming first, let me know. He's been good to me and you, Tess. Say I'm lying?"
She rolled her eyes, tears welling up when she shrugged.
"Tess, I love you, sweetheart, but trust me. When it's time for me to retire, we'll retire, and I'll take you anywhere you want to go. You hear me?"
He leaned over, turning her face to his by her chin and admiring her beauty. Deep down inside, he knew Contessa loved Lucky and his children just as much as he did, but love had no conditions. He couldn't give up on them, and he prayed she wouldn't either.
"I hear you, and I love you, too." He peppered her face with kisses, causing her to squeal and giggle. The sound of her laughter was exactly what Whistle needed. "But you owe me a nice foot rub later and a back massage."
"Can I massage the pussy, too?" he asked when her eyes bucked.
"Fuck, there's Endea," she muttered, seeing her enter the tavern. "We talked her up, and now she's going to know I lied."
"Nope. Let me handle it. The last thing I need is for Lucky to come out, and they have an argument, and he says something stupid because he's already screwed up in the head."
"I don't think you can avoid it," she whispered. "Look at her."
Endea's pinched lips were an indicator that she had come prepared to fight.
As soon as she made dinner at his place, he agreed to eat, then come by her place later to put up some bookshelves she had, then watch a movie.
Later turned out to be never when, hours later, she saw he'd ditched her again.
Endea took a ride around town and was immediately pissed when she caught a glimpse of both Lucky and Whistle's trucks at Jessie's Tavern.
Once parked, she angrily burst inside, then pushed past a sea of patrons dancing, when she noticed Whistle and Contessa, who was her so-called friend.
"Not a word to her, understand?"
Contessa sat up, issuing a fake smile when Endea stood in front of them.