Page 41 of Static

Static

Jerry didn't say a word as we dragged him deeper into the alleyway. He knew better. It didn't matter that at one point he thought I was a law-abiding man. He was recognizing his mistake now. He watched us with mistrustful eyes.

"Look, Jerry, I'm going to cut to the chase." I gave him a fake sympathetic smile. "You're going to tell us where you get your drugs from."

His eyes were wide and frightened. He looked between me and my brothers. "I-I can sell you anything you want, Mr. Henderson."

This man was forty-five years old, seven years older than me, but I'd laid into him when I defended him in court. I'd be damned if I ever let scum like him address me as an equal. Told him he would address me by Mr. Henderson and nothing else. Men like Jerry didn't usually make it long in this world. The fact that he was alive and kicking at forty-five meant he was shrewd.

"I don't want to buy drugs from you, Jerry." I shook my head. "I want to know where your supplier keeps his drugs."

"O-oh, I can't tell you that, Mr. Henderson," he stammered. "They-" He broke off and swallowed hard. "They'd kill me."

"I find it interesting that you don't think we'll kill you," Butcher said, speaking for the first time.

Jerry's eyes bugged out of his head. "No, I-I believe that you would," he answered carefully. "I'm just thinking maybe you'd see what kind of position you're putting me in." He gave us a hopeful look. It died a quick death on his face when not one of us cracked a smile.

"I do see the position I'm putting you in. Possible death tomorrow or certain death right now. You know what you can say to get yourself out of this," I said.

"M-maybe I do," he hedged. "But it would mean disappearing. My whole life is here." His eyes took on a shrewd gleam under the low lights near the back of the alley.

"Your whole life can fit into your pocket. Which is where I'm about stuff your severed fingers," Butcher growled.

"Or maybe we'll let you keep your worthless life and take the one thing every man finds worth in," Toxic said. He punctuated the threat by flicking open his knife.

A low whine forced its way out of Jerry's throat as he eyed Toxic's knife. "Now, that's not necessary," he replied. His grubby hand inched toward his dick, as if that would protect it.

"I have a proposition for you, Jerry," I told him. We needed the information and we needed to get the fuck out of here. I was willing to pay to ensure both happened. I reached into my jeans and pulled out a wad of cash. I knew the way this shit worked. Butcher and Toxic's way would work, too, but it left behind more evidence—usually splattered on the walls. There was a code on the street. If you wanted information, you paid for it. Plain and simple. It was just the way business was done. "Here's three grand, enough for you to disappear."

Jerry all but started drooling, staring at the money. Sadly, three grand was enough to encourage him to sell out his own mother. Loyalty wasn't worth a damn out here.

"Tell us what we want to know, and it's yours." I was doing my part. He knew how to disappear. If he took us up on this deal, didn't leave and was killed, that wasn't our problem. This was enough to get him somewhere new and he'd start over, if he chose. I was willing to live with whatever happened. Fuck. I was willing to do whatever it took to keep my family safe. My brothers. My woman. My kids. Because they were already mine in my mind. I just had to convince Gwen of that fact. Just because she wasn't aware of it yet, didn't mean I wouldn't protect them.

Jerry snatched the money from my hand, sealing the deal.

"Go ahead," Hush urged.

We listened as he told us where to find the drugs we needed.

"They keep it guarded, you know," he said. "Going to take a fucking army to get into that place."

I grinned at him. "I know." We had that. Or rather a collection of Army, Navy, and Marines. More than enough to take on some hired muscle. "Jerry," I said, stopping him in his tracks as he scooted past us to leave. He looked over his shoulder at me. "If you're lying to us-"

"Oh no, Mr. Henderson," he said, waving the wad of money at me. It was his silent way of saying he was keeping his end of this bargain. Street code was the only thing that mattered to these guys. Everything else came and went, money, women, drugs, it all ebbed and flowed, but their reputation? That, they protected with their entire being.

I didn't bother to finish my threat. He knew it by heart. We'd track him down, torture, and kill him.

He nodded in understanding of the look in my eyes and scurried off into the night. A small part of me hoped he did the smart thing and left. The rational part knew he wouldn't. Most of that cash would be in a stripper's thong within the hour.

"Let's go," Hush said. "The others are waitin'."

We got on our bikes and met up with the rest of our club at the designated spot.

"South side," I told Lock as soon as we pulled up.

All hands were on deck for this except the few we left behind to watch over the compound and our families. Bear, Mel, and Dash had it under control. There was nothing that indicated Fremont would make a move tonight, and no one else was currently trying to kill us, so we hadn't left more men at home. That would change after tonight. But we needed all the fire power we could get for this next step.

Priest leaned his head out the window of the truck he was driving. Someone had to drive the cage ride so we could transport all our weapons. We weren't going into this with fucking handguns. No. We had AKs and M16s. A few shotguns. But mostly rifles. One thing we all knew from our military days, where there were drugs, there were guns. The men we were about to steal from weren't going to be armed with knives and baseball bats. We were meeting fire with fire.

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