Page 20 of Prized Possession

Jake rolls his eyes at me while pouring two very large doubles of whiskey. He hands one to me, but I set it onto the table as I pass the cards back to him. I think I’ll stick to beer for now.

As he shuffles one more time, he glances up at me, suddenly looking more serious than I’m used to. “So, down to official business. Do you have anything outstanding to discuss from the last meeting?”

Whilst on the surface this may look like a friendly poker game between friends, it’s still a business meeting, and Jake always treats it as such. He may drink too much and not give a shit about the job, but he does, on occasion, try to be a good leader.

It’s actually a massive shame, as I think if he really did put the effort in, he’d probably be a better leader than I am. I’m ruthless and firm, whereas Jake actually cares—possibly too much—but it also makes him a great advocate for the people he rules over.

“All mine were sorted, I believe. What about you?” I reply.

“What happened with Barty?” he asks, his expression now much more guarded.

Barty is the leader of one of the gangs that works for me. He’s responsible for a large chunk of the drug income we have, but at the last meeting, Jake told me there had been complaints from some of his gangs that Barty was crossing the border.

When our families split Blackthorn in two, a territory line was drafted. The people who operate on the East side of town are ruled by me, and Jacob has the West. Everyone knows that you don’t cross the territory line, it’s a breach of the peace treaty. Anyone that’s found to be doing so has to be dealt with swiftly.

“I spoke to Barty straight away. He said it was a new pusher he’d brought on board who didn’t know the territory line well enough, and crossed it without realising. It’s been dealt with,” I explain, leaving out the part where Barty was punished for allowing such a mistake to occur.

Even if it was the new kid’s fault, the book stops with Barty, and he should have made sure his hires are given enough knowledge. I also made it clear I don’t allow anyone under the age of eighteen to work in the drugs game.

There’s too much risk of them either taking the product themselves, or pushing it to their friends. What they do when they become an adult is up tothem, but we don’t sell drugs to kids in my town—a rule both me and Jake agree on.

Jake winces slightly as he deals our first hand. “I’m sorry to tell you, the situation has not been solved. I had four complaints over the last week, all saying the same thing. Barty is moving over into the Upper West side, and he’s threatened several members of UW40, the gang who currently deal in that area.”

“Fuck!” I growl, slamming my fist on the table. “I take it our first hand is for who handles him?”

Jake nods, a sadistic smile turning up the corner of his lip. This is the way our poker night always goes. When there’s an issue that we will disagree over how it’s handled, we play for it. If I win, I get to deal with Barty however I choose, but if Jake wins, he can sort it, and I have to accept his methods.

I’m not sure who Barty will want to win this hand. Jake looks murderous, and he will be playing for the right to defend his territory. Whereas, I’m playing for my pride.

Barty lied to me, and he directly went against my orders, which, as his leader, I can’t allow to stand. I need to make an example of him.

I always play to win, but some hands are more important than others. However, I can see the intense glare in my best friend’s eyes, and I’m a little startled that he wants to deal with this.

The round starts, and I flick a glance at my cards, keeping my face neutral as I see the King of Spades and Three of Clubs. I place the cards back down and assess Jake as he looks at his. As always, he gives nothing away.

“Are there any rules you want to lay down regarding the outcome of dealing with Barty?” I ask, as I throw some chips down to say I’m in the game.

Jake is quick to meet my bid, dealing three cards onto the centre of the table. I keep my gaze neutral as my heart races when each card’s turned over.

King of Clubs. Ace of Diamonds. Five of Hearts.

A pair isn’t a great hand, but it’s better than nothing for now, so I place my bet to let him know I’m still in. Jake assesses the cards for a moment, his gaze giving nothing away.

Is he taking his time to look unsure, to bluff that he’s got nothing, when he’s actually got a good hand?

“Whatever the outcome, I need his gang to know that they can never deal on the Upper West side again,” Jake states, before adding, “Do you have any stipulations?”

What he’s really asking is if he’s allowed to kill Barty if things go that far.

“As far as I’m concerned, Barty broke the rules, then he lied about it to my face, before breaking the rules again. He had his second chance and he blew it.

“I know he’s well connected, and I have no idea where his gang will stand at the end of it, but that’s something I can handle. If you kill him, that’s fine by me, as long as he’s aware that the punishment he’s receiving comes with my blessing. I don’t want his family blaming you and retaliating,” I state firmly.

This has always been a concern for us, whenever the other person wins the right to deal with someone on the rival side. But we made it clear in the beginning that any major action will be undertaken with the other’s blessing, unless we say otherwise.

Our teams know that if one of us were to ever make a move without the other’s consent, that would be a clear breach of the treaty, and we’d go to war. So we make sure that everyone knows that’s not happened.

Jake nods in understanding, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. “I’m not sure if we’ll kill him. It all depends on what he says in the interview. You can be there, if you’d like?”

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