“We’ve got a meeting,” I said in disbelief, staring at the two suitcases full of heroine.
“Yeah but now you have to decide how we play this. Are we going to tail them and hope they lead us to Reina and Blackie while the time runs out on the clock or are we going to turn the tables on this fuck and take matters into our own hands?”
“What do you think?” I replied.
“I think it’s time Jimmy got a dose of his own medicine, you feel me, brother?”
I held the phone to my ear with my shoulder and looked down at my hands, turned them so my palms were up and I envisioned all the things these two hands were capable of doing.
“Bianci, is Temptations still boarded up?” I asked.
“Nope, it’s abandoned right now. I’ll get the keys,” he offered.
“Good idea, see you in an hour,” I said, before ending the call and turning to face the four sets of eyes that were staring back at me. “We got a date with Gold,” I grinned, diverting my eyes to the empty duffel bags on the table. “Going to need those,” I said, reaching across the table and grabbing two of them. “We need to meet at Pier 33 in an hour.”
“What the fuck are we going to do with all these drugs?” Pipe asked, holding up the two suitcases.
“Oh we’re taking them with us,” I grinned.
One last trick.
I’m coming for you motherfucker.
I’ll show you who the motherfucking boss is.
I ignored their suspicious eyes and the guilt that once again I was leaving them dancing in the wind. I wasn’t going to allow anyone to talk me out of this. In the end it was what was best for the club too, they needed to trust me and I know that was a lot to ask of them, to ask of anyone right now.
I took the duffel bags and gathered what I needed. I made one final call to put the plan into motion. After securing the bags to my bike, I took a moment to gather myself, to reason with my maker and prayed just this once he would fight with me and not against me.
Sixty minutes isn’t a long time and when you’re gearing yourself up for the biggest battle of your life it’s even shorter. Before I could bring myself down from the mental high I was experiencing, I glanced at the watch on my wrist and sped across town to the pier with my brothers.
The sun was rising, the dawn of a new day and the last one for Jimmy. He just didn’t know it. But he would soon. It was time for him to meet his maker, me.
It was easy to spot Sanchez, he was a bloody mess barely able to stand in front of the pier but the laser bullseye that Bianci had pointed in between his eyes made him a dead giveaway. Literally. My eyes followed the laser beam across the docks to where Anthony and Mike stood with their guns cocked and ready.
We took cover behind the shipping containers that the longshoremen would load onto the vessels in just a few hours and waited for the black Escalade to appear.
“We’ve got company, boss,” Riggs said, spitting the toothpick he was rolling between his teeth to the floor and grabbing his gun from his waistband.
I followed his eyes, watching as the headlights rolled into the shipping yard.
Game over motherfucker.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I’ve crossed lines, broken rules, and by some miracle of God, I lived to reap the benefits of all my sins. I’ve spent years waiting for my time to come, to be the man who held all the power.
I’m the boss of the Pastore Organization.
I am the puppet master.
I take what I want and I don’t apologize.
I make more money than any man who ruled my empire before me.
Two shots rang out and my puppeteers dropped to the floor before I could even reach for my gun.
“Shame on you, Jimmy,” Jack Parrish whispered into my ear, as he fisted the solid gold chains around my neck and pulled them back. The chains I wore with pride, my signature trait was the weapon of choice he used to choke me.
“Fooled you, again, didn’t I?” He whispered.
Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me.
Fool me three times and what does that make me?
A dead man.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I ground out my cigarette and stepped toward him. I bent down and untied the leash from the pillar it was tied to and stared down at my new pet.
“You ready to talk?” I asked him, tugging vigorously on the leash, wrapping it around my fingers tightly and yanking on it.
“Fuck you,” he gasped.
“Wrong answer,” I said, kicking him in the ass. “Crawl on all fours motherfucker, like the dog you are,” I shouted.
I leaned over the bar and reached into the duffel bag and grabbed the baseball bat.
“What did you say to me earlier?” I questioned, bringing the tip of the bat to his ass and sliding it between his ass cheeks, applying just enough pressure to make him yelp and start to crawl. I yanked the leash back and he shot up on his knees.