Chapter 42 #2
I rip the back door open. Noticing Daryl isn’t at our table yet, I head straight for Rose. My nerves are shot. I am beyond pissed and more confused than ever. What the fuck does Booker know?
“Irish Car Bomb, please,” I say when Rose walks up.
She doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t have to; her quizzical look says it for her. She isn’t judging me, but I can see the concern and confusion at the change in my order. I fucking need it though. It’s the only way I’m going to talk to Daryl and let him leave here with a pulse.
I grab the shot and toss it back just as I see the devil himself drift through the door. He looks just like the pictures Scarlett showed us. The smugness didn’t quite come through the camera lens, though.
It’s already clear this guy thinks he’s too good for this place. His two friends sway through the doorway behind him. It’s obvious they all had a good time at the club. A favor they didn’t even know they were giving us. The looser his lips are, the better.
Rising from his seat without hesitation, Gizmo prepares for his part. I pull out Scarlett’s phone and shoot off a quick text to let Daryl know exactly where he can find his “niece.” The phone retreats into my pocket just as Chef moves in behind the trio, sealing the exit.
I turn and cut straight through the dance floor instead of around it like I normally would. I stop at the DJ booth and slip the kid a hundred.
“I need you to turn the music down,” I tell him, leaning in close. “Low enough that I can carry on a conversation by the pool tables.” I gesture with a thumb over my shoulder. “Fifteen minutes, tops.”
He looks at the bill, nods, and lowers the volume. Everyone in this building is so far gone they won’t even notice the drop.
I return to the table, giving Bear, Ace, and Wolf a quick nod. It’s the only communication we need before I take my seat.
“Now we wait.”
Waiting is getting fucking old, but I know better than most that rushing the play won’t end the way we want it to.
The unwavering support of the club—knowing exactly how much is at stake and standing ready—says everything about the men I call brothers.
Daryl comes into view among the crowd, presumably lured by the text. He scans the room, searching for a familiar face and coming up short. Waiting until he’s deep into the back room, I stand and approach him.
“You’re looking for Scarlett, but she isn’t here. We can skip the part where you pretend you don’t know who I am and get straight to the fact that I have your niece.”
His smug face remains a mask of indifference.
“You want her back? You’ll answer some questions.”
“I’ll go to the cops,” he says, his fists at his sides. “You guys aren’t above the law.”
A smirk lands on my lips. “We aren’t. Neither are you.
” I take a step closer until the toe of my boot meets the tip of his overpriced high-tops.
“We know about your side business. Fuck the cops. I wonder what your boss would think about it? You can say goodbye to that hundred-thousand-dollar salary once you’re banned from the industry. ”
Attempting to take a few steps back, Daryl finds Bear’s massive frame blocking him like a brick wall. His gaze shoots up to the man towering over him before snapping back to me, the first real crack in his composure showing.
“Why don’t you take a seat so we can talk?” I say, gesturing toward the table.
“Alright, but can we make this quick? My friends are waiting for me.” His voice shakes, betraying his attempt to sound merely inconvenienced.
An unamused laugh breaks from my throat. “Oh, I think they’re just fine. I have two of my men keeping them company. Sit.”
It wasn’t a suggestion, and he does as he’s told, sinking into the chair next to Wolf.
“Let’s start with why you targeted our club. Scarlett was rather generous with her information, but I want to hear it from you.” Leaning back in the seat, I do my best to project patience while every instinct screams to rip this man’s throat out.
His gaze flickers from me to Bear and then to Wolf, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow.
“Scarlett was at my house. She got a little drunk and was talking about you, I think. Sarge, right?” He looks up, searching my face for a reaction I won’t give him.
“She was bitching about how you don’t pay attention to her, even though she’s been there through so much.
I was just there, listened and supported her. ”
A hand runs over his mouth, stalling as he calculates how to phrase the next lie.
“She mentioned a detail about what the club does.” He locks eyes with me, testing for a reaction. “You know, how you guys smuggle and sell drugs illegally. I told her how dangerous that is—how you all could get hurt or killed doing something like that.”
His voice rises, taking on the tone of a victim or a concerned parent. “I told her how worried I was, having her hanging around drug dealers like that. It’s a liability I couldn’t ignore.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. The real drug dealer at this table is you.” My words come out firm, cutting through his performance. “You didn’t like someone dipping into your profits, and you wanted to get rid of the competition. Own it like a fucking man.”
Leaning forward, I close the distance until I’m inches from his face. “Since you can’t be bothered to get your well-manicured hands dirty, how did you decide on the Scorpions to do your bidding?”
Falling back into my seat, I leave the question hanging in the air, giving him the choice to either lie again or finally tell the truth. Wolf and Bear stand on either side of Daryl’s chair now, enforcing the urgency of the matter.
“Listen, man, this was mostly Scarlett.” He holds his hands up, palms out like he’s innocent.
“I mentioned how someone should stop you guys before you get hurt, and she said the only people crazy enough to get in your way were some rival club. I just gave her the money and let her set it up. I don’t know anything more than that.
She said she had a plan that would work. ”
His eyes ping-pong around the table, looking for any sign that his lie is sticking.
“A plan?” My voice a commanding, dangerous growl.
“A plan that involved snatching a woman off the street? You gave your jaded niece, who’s obsessed with me, a blank check and told her to handle your problems. You knew exactly what she’d do with it.
You just wanted to keep your hands clean while she did the dirty work. ”
“No, no man. I don’t know anything about anyone being taken. She assured me she knows you and your club—that she had a foolproof plan. I was just the money behind it. It seemed important to her that you guys stop moving drugs. She seemed concerned.”
Standing abruptly, my fist slams into the table with a thud that echoes through the room. “Bullshit!”
The roar silences the surrounding crowd.
“Do not fucking lie to me, Daryl. You did this to line your pockets. You used your heartbroken niece for your own benefit.” Moving around the table, I close the distance until I’m looming over him.
“We don’t sell drugs to hurt people. That’s you.
You thought you could take us out and boost your bottom dollar, but all you’ve done is turn a businessman back into a soldier. ”
A shot glass slides across the wood, courtesy of Gizmo. It’s filled with clear liquid, save for the glint of brass from a 9mm round resting at the bottom. Gizmo shoves it toward Daryl.
“Got you this. Consider it liquid motivation to start telling the truth.”
Daryl looks down at the glass and goes pale. An attempt to scramble out of his seat is cut short when Wolf shoves him back down with a single, heavy hand. Watching Daryl sweat, I have to hand it to Gizmo—the message has been received loud and clear.
“Okay, okay, yes. I wanted you guys out of the way the moment I found out what you do. And yes, I used Scarlett’s interest in you to my advantage, but I am telling you the truth when I say I don’t know anything about a woman being taken.
” His wide eyes bore into mine like he’s begging me to believe him.
Fear might finally be prying the truth out of him.
“I gave her twenty grand to do with as she thought necessary and told her to let me know when it was done. I wanted to stay out of the details. I felt she had it covered and I didn’t need to know.”
Fucking useless.
“Give me your phone,” I order, my voice flat and final.
There is no chance in hell I’m letting him call anyone the second he slinks out of here, and I need to see exactly who he’s been communicating with. A shaky hand passes the device across the table.
“You won’t be getting this back.”
Handing the phone over to Gizmo, I watch him nod, already knowing exactly what to do and wrapping it in a Faraday bag before pocketing it.
“Come on. Leave this sack of shit here. We’ve got other business to tend to.”