“Sure,” Uncle Jakey said. “I’m going to go to the titty bar. Find some chick with the saddest, deadest eyes ever. Then I’m going to blow bubbles into her tits until I turn purple.”
That’s how chapel came to an end.
The door shut after Uncle Jakey left.
“Our leader,” I said with a grin.
“It’s not the worst way to spend your day,” Elijah said. “You could be King. Sitting in a cell, waiting for your last day.”
“King,” I whispered.
Damn, like I needed that little ping to heart.
I glanced at Ari again and he gave another nod.
It was time to ride.
My entire future hung in the balance.
twenty-four
(knox)
THEN
“I’m good,” Hammer said and pushed away the white mountain of coke.
“Suit. Yourself.”
A guy named Larry Tool was wide eyed and smiling as his took another snort of his own stuff. He told me he could sell it for days because all he needed were his customers to see how he reacted to taking it.
Larry turned to me and I denied the offer.
I was sitting at a round table with some of the Reap, a lot of Larry’s crew, and a potential customer. The customer was a group of men looking to move Larry’s magical powder into a more southern region and they needed our help to make sure it got there safely. That meant making sure the local PD was on board with the move, and it meant to have a line of protection from other crews, MCs, and gangs along the way.
Hammer was the best at it. I got to learn from the best. And I came from the best.
The old man folded his hands and said, “We can get this going anytime you’re ready.”
“Ah, Hammer,” Larry said. He grabbed the old man’s shoulder. “I fucking love you. If you had a set of tits and a slit, I’d fuck you.”
“Good to know,” the old man said. He looked at me.
Now it was my turn to shine. “We’ve got a route that’s not normally used. It’ll take a little more time but we’ve got it covered. We have two groups of our guys go on a ride. One is a diversion. One is your protection. The diversion is going to stir up some trouble, keeping all eyes on them. The shipment will be moved in regular old piece of shit cars, trucks, whatever. A little in each. So nothing brings attention.”
“You think of this, kiddo?” Larry asked.
I fucking hated being called kid or kiddo. Unless it was my father calling me that.
“I did,” I said.
“Good for you.” Larry then pointed across the table. “Now these fucks owe me some cash. Pay up!”
That’s when things started to take a turn.
The customer was led by a guy named Will. His right hand man was Artie and he had a big mouth.
“So they call you tool man,” Artie said. “Heard you have other names.”
“We’re here to discuss business,” my old man said. “Leave the chit-chat for the bar.”
“You owe a hundred grand, Will,” Larry said.
“That I do. That I intend to pay. When my shipment arrives.”
“I don’t do that,” Larry said.
“Look,” I said, “we get our shit where it has to go. End of discussion.”
“I’m not talking to you, son,” Will said.
“Call me son again and I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”
“Everyone relax,” the old man said.
“So what tool is it?” Artie asked. “Are you the wrench? The needle nose pliers?”
Artie laughed.
Nobody else did.
I reached for my leather cut to get a smoke and all hell broke loose.
Larry stood up, rage in his face. He leaned over the table and reached into his suit jacket. The crazed son of a bitch pulled out a screwdriver and drove it into the skull of Artie.
Then he looked at Will. “What do you think the tool is?”
I sat there and muttered, “Jesus Christ…”
Larry took the screwdriver out of Artie’s skull. Artie slumped over the table.
Funny enough, Will quickly paid up. We set the protection run. We got our payday for the work. Life went on. Well, for everyone but Artie. Larry had his guys grind him up and take him to the dump.
That was just a friendly reminder of living life on the edge.
Sometimes you were Larry’s screwdriver and sometimes you were Artie’s brain.
twenty-five
(knox)
NOW
You’d think such an important meeting would be conducted indoors. Instead of that, we were in a parking lot east of town. I stood next to my ride and watched as two black cars came down the road. The first car stopped and out came two men.
Anthony and Tony. They were greased up, looking like out of a movie, and they refused to shake my hand.
“You put Vinny in a corner,” Tony said. “He’ll fucking kill you.”
“And I’ll be in charge of hiding your body,” Anthony said.
“Thanks for the advice,” I said.
I stepped forward and Tony grabbed my arm. “Hold up, tough guy. Weapons. Now.”
I took out my gun and my knife and handed them back to Ari.
Anthony then patted me down to make sure I wasn’t hiding anything.
I was then clear to approach the other car.