Page 39 of In the Midst of Chaos

Chapter Fourteen

The energyon a drop was always high and laced with danger. One wrong move and empires came crumbling down.

Gunner and Nate were in the front. I had a bandana wrapped around my mouth. I didn’t like to show my face on the off chance that someone might recognize me.

“Mis amigos,” Humberto greeted us with open arms as we turned down our motors.

I snorted. We were his friends, but as soon as you told this fucker no, that was it. No longer a friend but an enemy.

“Humberto,” Gunner greeted in his smoky tone. “Long time, no see.”

“Too long, mi amigo.”

“It’s about to be longer,” Ace muttered under his breath.

“Shut the fuck up,” I whispered to him. These fuckers had ears everywhere. I was not going to get killed because Ace had a big fucking mouth.

“We still stand by what we said last time. The heat is on us, and we aren’t going to go down just because you need more guns.”

Humberto’s lips twitched. He clearly didn’t like the idea, but we got the guns, and if he wanted war, then war it was. This was why I didn’t think he was behind our rat. He needed us too much to fuck up a good thing.

“That’s a shame. I’m all about flooding you with money,compa, but you don’t let me.” He smiled and patted Gunner on the back.

“The feds don’t give a rat’s ass if I flood them with green, and I’m too pretty for jail.”

“It’s all about that self-love, Prez,” someone shouted, and everyone chuckled.

With my hands on the handlebar, I hung my head and laughed. These fuckers were crazy and stupid.

In no time, they switched from pleasantries to business.

“How do you think he’s going to take it?” Duncan asked as Humberto and his men tested the product, and Ace and Prez counted the money.

He was in the back, his bike standing out amongst the others. The cartel questioned it once, and our answer was that someone had to ride a bitch bike to give the cops a run for their money.

Duncan didn’t like that they called his bike a bitch.

“He’s going to get pissed. We lay low, he loses ground.”

“Not our problem.” I shrugged.

If people really knew who ran the Death Disciples, they wouldn’t think twice to cross us.

The moment Gunner told Humberto, the place became tense. “Mi amigo,” he all but growled. “That’s unacceptable.”

“I have to lay low, so the next shipment will take twice as long.”

Humberto pointed the uzi he was testing at Gunner. In a heartbeat, we all drew our guns. Mine was pointed at Humberto’s right-hand man, and I knew Duncan had his pointed at the man behind him ’cause we knew Nate had Humberto covered.

Gunner raised his chin higher. We didn’t fear death. When our time came, well, that was it, and you trusted your brothers would take care of retribution and your kin. That was all the peace of mind a man needed before he died.

Except when you fell in love—that fucking feeling was selfish enough to want to drag whomever you claimed as yours down to hell with you.

Humberto, the crazy fuck, wasn’t fazed by the drawn guns. “You aren’t selling to someone else,mi compa? And delaying my guns?”

“We don’t choose money over loyalty. We keep to our word. I know the wait is long, so we can arrange for double for the next few shipments because I’m pretty sure we are going to keep going like this for a while.”

“Perfecto.” The fucker opened his arms to give Gunner a one-armed hug while still holding the semi in the other hand.

---