Chapter 46 Ransome
RANSOME
It takes Amara over an hour to fall asleep. Little did she know, I was wide awake too.
But I lay with her until her breath becomes rhythmic.
Until the tension in her shoulders gives way to sleep and softens as she drifts off.
Whatever is on her mind, whatever she’s worrying about, I want her to know I am here.
Behind her, both literally and figuratively.
I want her to know I am going to take care of everything.
As soon as she falls asleep, that’s exactly what I do.
I get up and throw on some clothes. With Ivan keeping watch outside the house, I head out to Elsie’s.
It’s a strip club that likes to think it’s high-end just because old men with deep pockets frequent it.
I personally have no interest in the place, but I know that’s where I’ll find Maverick at one in the morning.
I shoot a text to Baron to see to it that he’ll be there when I get there.
Maverick is of course surprised when I walk in.
“Fancy seeing you here.” He grins up at me from a table near the front, where a red-headed girl with tits bigger than my head is doing the spread eagle in front of him.
“Bar, now,” I tell him. When he’s not quick to follow, I grab him by the collar just as he shoves a wad of ones between the girl’s cannon balls.
“What the hell is up your ass?” he asks with a scowl, shrugging off my hand.
At the same time, Baron rounds the corner, meeting us at the far end of the bar. VIP. Other than an accountant who’s about to get lucky in artificial broad daylight, we are alone.
“Any word?” I ask Baron.
“From the sounds of it, there’s been some activity.”
“Oh, so he finally crawled out of whatever manhole he’s been hiding in.” Maverick sneers into his glass.
But I’m not smiling. “What kind of activity?”
I’m so angry I could explode. It’s hard just to keep my tone even. But that’s not how things are handled, and I have to remember that. Ever since Amara showed up, it gets easy to forget.
“Stalling on the routes,” he answers.
“Where?” I ask.
“Philly.”
My eyes widen. “Philadelphia? What the fuck are the trucks doing in Philadelphia?” I snap.
Maverick looks at Baron as if he’s a dead man walking. I don’t usually kill the messenger, but right now, I could rip my cousin in half.
“A checkpoint,” he says.
“We have men in Philly. They should be flying past that checkpoint at seventy miles per hour,” Maverick states the obvious.
“What happened at the checkpoint?” I ask.
“The two trucks were stripped.”
I nearly bite my tongue in half as I wait for him to go on.
“Cops?” Maverick asks.
Baron shakes his head slowly. “No. But speaking of cops?” he nods towards the door as Damon walks in, my buddy from the NYPD.
“Of all the places to meet up,” he says as he pulls up a seat next to us. “I had to tell my guys there was a domestic violence issue with one of the dancers.” He grins as a bartender takes his drink order. Then he turns to me.
I get right to it. “What’s going on?”
“I take it you heard we got some shady news this evening,” he says. “My guys made twelve arrests today. All possession and selling. All to guys asking for your guys.”
“And let me guess. All Chadovich?”
He nods.
“Fuck.”
“So he’s running our product,” Maverick says.
“Yeah,” Damon sighs. The bartender hands him his drink.
After she walks away, he keeps talking. “And that’s not all.
He’s got four other trucks running south.
If I had to guess, he’s going to cut the rest of the shipments off at Las Cruces.
And that’s if he doesn’t just chuck men over the fence to Juarez himself. ”
I’ve heard enough.
I finish the rest of my drink in one swallow and Maverick, Baron, and I head out. Once we are standing next to my car, I pace. I needed air. More than that, I needed to be able to think without cotton candy scented girls waving their tits around in my face.
“So what are we going to do?” Maverick asks. “We can’t just let him take over. He’s selling our blow. He’s stealing our trucks.”
“You think Ransome doesn’t know that?” Baron snaps at him.
“Well, we need to figure out what we are going to do about it,” Maverick barks back.
They both look at me.
“Cuz?” Baron asks.
“What’s the plan?” Maverick joins in.
I pull my phone out of my pocket. “I’m going to make a phone call.”
After three rings, Jenica picks up, her voice annoyed and sleepy.
“Let me guess. You forgot the code to your own house,” she jokes groggily.
“Tristan is on the move,” I tell her.
“He’s always on the move,” she says. “Problematically, his movements are erratic and usually idiotic.”
“He’s got our trucks.”
“You mean, like… the ones with all the cocaine in them?”
I take in a breath and let it out slowly. The number of people I’ve wanted to kill today is at an alarming number.
“Listen, I told you he would stop at nothing,” she says.
“And that nothing includes you?”
“Well, I guess it’s safe to say the truce is shot to hell,” she says, a little more awake now and slightly more serious. “So what do you want me to do? Because if you think I can talk sense to my least favorite cousin, you’re going to be wildly disappointed.”
“I don’t want you to talk to him. But I do want to know who he’s running with.
Not the ex-cons he bribed out of prison.
Men he always works with. Men who have enough loyalty to him that they might have information on his next moves.
But not enough loyalty that losing a couple fingernails won’t persuade them to tell me what I want to know. ”
“Ah yes, interrogation. The fun part of Bratva families. You see why I watch reality TV, Ransome? Because my reality is a nightmare.”
“Do you have names for me or not?” I snap.
“Igor Volkov. He’s as loyal to Tristan as a labrador puppy and every bit as soft. You could probably smack him with a newspaper and get what you want.”
“Unfortunately for him, I don’t do newspapers. I do pliers.”
“Great. Knock yourself out. I’m going back to sleep.”
The call ends.
“Wait.” Maverick’s jaw falls. “Is that a fucking smile?”
“What happened?” Baron asks.
My grin spreads. “We’re back in business, that’s what.”