Page 14 of Filthy Savage

When Atomic stands, my gaze swings over to my brother as he focuses on the suits. He watches them for a moment in silence, then lets out a heavy sigh.

“Tell us what happens,” Atomic demands.

He’s asking, but not really. It is, without a doubt, a demand. And I don’t blame him. I know he is probably feeling much like I am with this shit. He is impatient and ready to know what the fuck happens next, although for different reasons.

Atomic is thinking only of Clink, but I am thinking mostly of Spencer.

“Well, the law is specific. And the DA is not backing down from anything. They are ready to nail balls to the wall. I think I can talk them into a deal, but there will be jail time. There’s no getting out of it.”

“Fuck,” Atomic hisses.

I hear King bark a simpleFucksomewhere in the room, but I can’t look away from the lawyer to see where he is. He usually sits where the suit is, so I know he’s somewhere else.

“The length of time is about all we have to work with now,” the attorney continues.

“What are you offering? And where would he go?”

He clears his throat before he speaks again. “I might be able to get him to the minimum-security prison in Texarkana.”

“Might?” I ask.

He shrugs a shoulder. “I can write it into the plea deal, but it doesn’t mean they will agree to it. They may want him in a higher-security facility.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I grunt. I have never known a DA, judge, oranyoneto be lenient when they’re attempting to make an example out of someone, and that’s what they’ve all but said this is exactly.

“What are the odds, truly?” I ask.

The attorney lifts his chin slightly, then levels me with his gaze. “I’ll tell you what I told Humble. I can write it. I cannot make any promises. They may want him to offer something, but he claims he has nothing to offer them.”

Atomic grunts, directing the attention toward him. We all look to our president. It’s clear that he wishes to speak. Usually, it wouldn’t be such a formal meeting, not even church, with everyone attending in this… almost ceremonial type atmosphere.

“You’ll let us know?” Atomic asks.

They dip their chins simultaneously and then stand. They’re silent as they move toward the door, but then the main one stops. He looks over his shoulder into the space.

“We are not going to make a bad deal. Whatever we make, it’s so that Humble gets thebestdeal. Minimum security is going tobe a walk in the park for him. And if I have my way, it won’t be for long, maybe a couple of years.”

Atomic doesn’t say anything, and I’m half tempted to tell this motherfucker to get Clink out of the goddamn jail or watch his back because his days are numbered. But I’ve been in situations where you can’t control other working parts, so I don’t say anything, even though I truly want to.

Once the door is closed, I expect Atomic to say something, but he doesn’t. He lifts his hand, extending his finger for us to shut the fuck up. I arch a brow but don’t say anything, watching him.

A moment later, he has his phone in his hand and moves his thumb across the screen, then he sets it down on the table, dropping his hand. “I had to make sure they were gone before we spoke. I didn’t want them to hear us.”

I nod a couple of times. I can’t say I don’t agree with him. They probably wouldn’t understand anything we even said, but that doesn’t mean it’s their information to hear.

“What the actual fuck are we going to do?” King asks as he walks over to his normal seat and sinks down.

“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Atomic grinds out. “I can’t break him out, as much as I fucking want to.”

There is a moment of silence. We all flick our gazes between one another. I don’t know what to say, how to say it. Right now, we’re well and truly fucked completely… or rather, Clink is.

“Spencer is really not going to like those answers from us or the attorney,” King mumbles.

“I know,” I say. “But she’s expecting them.”

Atomic places his palms on the table and then leans over slightly. “As much as I want to spend the day trying to figure out some magical something for Clink, we have a lot more pressing issues to discuss.”

“Routes for the men,” I state.

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