Page 97 of Truths

“I suppose the offer may make it a no-brainer, huh?”

“I can't wait to see the look on that motherfucker's face when he realizes he's caught. Caught and about to die like the vermin he is.”

“And then let him know he's losing his head to fit into awinebox.”

Psycho laughs and climbs on his bike. “Head-sized box works just fine for me.”

“Of course it does.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Griffin's Beach

Jennings

Jennings sits next to TK with VP and Colt cross from him in a booth by the front door. The blinds are closed, so nothing should tip off Ivan when he walks into the restaurant. Their bikes are parked down the block, and Jennings can't wait to see the reaction on Ivan's face when he realizes he's been caught.

“Look who's here,” Colt whispers, holding a menu up to help hide his kutte.

The man doesn't know them well enough to recognize them by their faces, but he'll know the kutte in an instant. And the moment he catches on, he'll know he's been set up.

All four of them watch Ivan walk into the main room over the top of the menus, the man none the wiser about the Drifters sitting there.

“O'Connor!” Ivan calls in a happy tone, his accent thick.

“Ivan,” Collin responds cooly.

Psycho pops up from behind the counter, holding a bottle of whiskey. “I think I found what you were looking for.”

“What the fuck is this?” Ivan shouts and backs away slowly.

Jennings leads his men out of the booth as they move shoulder to shoulder with five large, well dressed Irish bodyguards.

“We need to talk, Ivan,” Collin says. “Things have been brought to my attention.”

The Russian looks around the room as he appears to think over every possible option of a clean getaway. “Look, men-”

“It's kind of funny how you were on such good terms with us,” Jennings says.

“Allegedly,” Collin interrupts.

“Allegedly. All the while, you were working with the head of the Slashers to take out Collin here.”

VP nods. “We couldn't quite figure out why you seemed so resistant to help us with the Irish problem we had, and we honestly just assumed you were trying to fuck us over. Never did we think you were the one to tell O'Malley to kidnap my fucking daughter just to get Dimitri, the man you set up for the failed attempt on Collin's life. It all makes perfect fucking sense now.”

“I don't know where you heard that, but it's not true. None of it,” Ivan says.

Psycho leans down and clicks something under the counter, and Ivan's conversation with Dimitri plays over the speakers in the restaurant. Ivan looks rather positive none of them speak Russian, so he keeps a strong poker face.

“Not only did we run this through a translation program, but Collin has a man who speaks Russian. Both confirmed you're theone who ordered the hit on him. The one that started this whole mess, and you put it all on Dimitri. Upon further examination, Dimitri tried to talk you out of it, but you outranked him,” Psycho says.

“Look, there's a lot that gets lost in translation-”

“Save it,” Collin says. “I trust my man a hell of a lot more than I trust you. I know exactly what it says, and it says you're the reason my brother's dead. Because you made me believe it was Dimitri, I killed his girl. Then, he killed my brother. The way I see it, it couldn't be more your fault than if you'd shot him between the eyes yourself.”

Colt nods to Psycho, and he plays the part of the next recording where Ivan tells O’Malley to target Lex, making them all clench their fists at their sides.

“That's you, Ivan,” Colt says. “Telling O'Malley to kidnap my wife. My FUCKING WIFE!”

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