Chapter 1 #2
The color drains from Zander’s face as he whips around to glare at Spencer from between the front seats.
“Don’t fucking play around like that!” His voice is steady, but I can see the panic in his eyes.
None of us have ever met Froggie, but I’m not sure we’d want to with a rep like his.
Froggie’s been around for a few years now.
From everything I’ve ever heard, he came up from the underground at a young age, started killing first and asking questions later—to those who were lucky enough to survive.
He’d put the whole city under his thumb in the last seven years. All the old gangs were either killed or absorbed into Vengeance.
We came in a few months after Froggie took over. At the time, we’d been trying to be a part of Sin, which was once the biggest gang in our neighborhood, but once it was gone, we knew Vengeance was where we belonged.
“Don’t be such a pussy, Zan,” Spencer teases him, and I let him have his fun. He can talk a big game, but we all know he’s just as afraid of Froggie.
Everyone is.
“I’m not a pussy. I just prefer to stay alive, thank you,” Zander huffs and turns back around in his seat, slamming back into it much harder than necessary, sulking like a toddler.
I shake my head at both of them. I’m not sure how I became the more level-headed of the group, but when it comes to their constant bickering, I prefer to stay the hell out of it.
We run the South Charter of Vengeance and help with the Eastside since it doesn’t have anyone on top yet.
All three of us run it together the same way we do everything else and have since we were kids.
Our parents have been friends since they were in high school, and as a result, we got thrown together at an early age.
Twenty-three years later, we’re closer than most blood siblings.
I would take a bullet for these stupid fucks, and I know they would for me as well.
Hell, Spencer has before.
I can’t help myself from looking at the clock again. I know the more I watch it, the slower time will go, but this last little bit always kills me. Today, it feels even worse as exhaustion creeps in.
I may love being on top, but it doesn’t come without problems and sacrifices—the most recent being regular sleep. I can’t remember when I got more than three or four hours of uninterrupted sleep.
Eleven forty-eight. Only twelve more minutes until we can get the hell out of here and head back to the house, which unfortunately happens to be an hour away. It’s still better than sitting around for a few more hours, though.
“So, why do you think the boss man has us watching this dingy ass place if nothing’s even happening?” Zan asks as he readjusts his seat into a more upright position. Clearly, I’m not the only one ready to hit the road.
Spencer pulls his feet off the console and leans forward between the two front seats. “Who knows, man. I don’t pretend to understand a single thing that crazy fuck does, but clearly, it works for him. The man gets results, so who are we to question it?”
He’s not wrong. If Froggie wants us to watch this place fall to the ground, then so be it. He took the city by its balls in just a few short years, so clearly, there’s a method to his madness, whether we see it or not.
My phone goes off, and I quickly grab it, silencing my alarm. I always set an alarm to let us know when it’s time to go. That way, I can try to distract myself from looking at the clock every five minutes- not that it seemed to help tonight.
“Time to head out,” I tell the guys, reaching for my buckle. Spencer sits back, ready to go as well.
“Now, who’s sick of waiting?” Zander asks me, causing me to stop mid-buckle and look at him in confusion. I honestly have no idea what he means.
“Ugh, Ricky, man… You need to get some more sleep.” He shakes his head and points to the clock on the dash. It reads eleven fifty-eight.
Shit!
If it’s not midnight yet, that means I just silenced something much more important than my alarm.
We each have a phone that we use for “work” only. Seeing as it’s pretty late and all our guys have their orders, anyone calling must have a damn good reason to be doing so.
I release my belt, and it flies back, smacking the window as it goes, but I don’t give a shit as I reach for my phone. Sure as hell, I have a missed call, and the minute I read the name, I groan, letting my head fall back against my seat.
I’m so dead.
“What’s up, Rick?” Spencer once again sits forward to see what’s going on.
“I thought it was my alarm, but it was a call, and I fucking silenced it,” I tell them both. I don’t need to see them to know they’re both confused. We run most things, so a missed call isn’t a big deal, and usually, they would be right. It’s who called me that’s the problem here.
I pull up the contact and take a breath before explaining.
“It was Kratos.” I hit the call button and switch it to speaker. “Oh shit,” Zander whispers from beside me as the line begins to ring.
Oh, shit is right. Kratos is Froggie’s right hand, second in command, and he doesn’t fuck around. He’s also the one who gave us this recon mission straight from Froggie.
Kratos is as high up in the food chain as we have ever met. The only one above him is Froggie himself, but from what I know, nobody but Kratos deals directly with the boss. It gives him an urban legend, boogie man vibe, if I’m being honest, but it works.
Kratos can’t be much older than we are, but he’s hard as fuck, huge, and kills people like he was born to do it. I once watched him pull a man’s eyeball from its socket with his bare hands during an interrogation. If that doesn’t make someone scary, I don’t know what does.
I’ll be lucky if I get to keep my balls for slamming his call, regardless of whether it was an accident.
“Roderick.” His voice is flat, as it often is, but I can feel the question. His unspoken “what the fuck” makes me feel like a child who needs to explain. It’s ridiculous, I’m far from a child, but I can’t help but explain anyway.
“Apologies, I mistook the call for my alarm.” He grunts but doesn’t say anything else. Somehow, that doesn’t help to settle me.
“Regardless, you three will need to stay put a bit longer. Froggie’s heard there will be movement in the next hour.”
He doesn’t wait for us to respond before he continues.
“Do not be seen unless necessary and kill anyone who tries to flee. I trust that you boys came prepared?” It’s a rhetorical question. He knows each of our cars has a stash. He helped us hide them, but I answer him nonetheless.
“Of course.” I nod, as do Zander and Spencer, even though he can’t see us.
“Good. Froggie wants this done fast and correctly, which is why you three were sent. Don’t fuck this up, and the boss might even decide to thank you personally. I expect a report in the morning. Keep your eyes on the pigs, too.”
The line goes dead before I can respond, not that I had anything to say.
We all sit quietly for a moment, inside our thoughts about what that conversation just meant. The only thing I can focus on is the idea of meeting Froggie. Is that something we even want? Not that it matters. We don’t want to fuck this up, or we’re as good as dead.
“Looks like we should get comfortable again. Who knows what’s about to go down,” Spencer says, though he doesn’t lounge back like he was before, which lets me know he’s ready to go.
Zander and I nod our agreement, settling back in without letting our guard down. Tonight just got a whole lot more interesting, that’s for sure.