Page 21 of Death's Deal

“We’re done?” Des asks. “As I had a...”—pausing, looking at Toni, he smiles—“prior engagement.” Meaning he was engaged with a woman.

I let out a snickered reply, “Yeah. We’re done.”

Giving the knob a turn, Des, Trigger with Radish in tow, and Mack exit without a second word. Apoc stays behind along with Thunder, Tweet, Curse, and Boyd. These boys are inseparable, and they’ll have a few choice words for me on the subject.

Holding the door wide, Apoc looks at Antonia. “The men need to talk.” He’s telling her to fuck off kindly.

Turning to her with a chin raise, “Go grab a drink. V will make you anything you wish. I’ll be down shortly.”

Not arguing the point, knowing she’s not welcome within this conversation, Antonia seems uneasy but agrees and starts for the door.

“I got her,” Curse comments. “Come on, T. We can catch up. He’ll tell me everything later anyway.”

Closing the door once they’re gone, Apoc leans against it. “No bullshitting. Tell the truth, Brother.”

“Fine. Though this doesn’t leave here.” Looking at each of them, asking for their compliance, they nod before I start, “We’re bleeding cash. The club is drowning in debt after all the hospital bills. Add in the repairs to the clubhouse and the lost revenue from the bar.” I can’t even bring myself to say Obi’s name, but the void of her concoctions has lost us serious coin. “And we’re about to default on mortgages. I had to make a deal with the devil.”

“The devil is a good analogy, Death. I feel like we’ve been down this road before,” Boyd states first. He doesn’t usually pipe up unless the comment is a necessity. Taking over as Sergeant at Arms after Destroyer was hurt in our latest cartel battle, he’s a man who will have my back, even when I don’t. “What I wonder is, what will it cost us in the long run?”

“I’ve thought the same thing. Martin didn’t even blink when I told him that by the end of the day, we are to see seven million in our account. I know he loves Toni, but that is a big number to swallow for a protection detail.”

“How much are we talking about?” Apoc asks, amazed by the amount I just stated.

Picking up my phone, checking the bank account and not seeing a deposit yet, I tell them, “One mil a week for each week I’m stuck with her. Also, I told him he owed me five mil today for my time inside, and I expected that in advance. Beyond that, it’s one mil a week for putting us in the crosshairs of the cartels again. I didn’t expect he’d do it, but I asked for it. We need it. No matter how this runs out, we’re drowning as a club.”

“Seven mil in one day and a mil each week after?” Thunder bellows, smacking the leather couch so hard I bet his hand hurts, with a wide-eyed gaze, “That’s not fucking chump change for anyone.”

Tweet’s one good eye; his left, widens in disbelief. He takes a heavy seat in the chair where Curse once sat, chiming in, “Will that get us out of the red?”

I answer, “Yeah. Just. This was a well-timed gift. If we didn’t get this injection of cash, we were back to running illegal shit.”

“Not that I liked being dirty, but being dirty on our own terms might be better than being in bed with the mayor. This could come back to bite us in the ass,” Boyd states matter-of-factly. “He could use this against us later, yeah?”

“Not really. He’d have to prove it was extortion not coercion or mutually beneficial business dealings,” Tweet chimes in.

“Look.” I try to cut this off at the pass. “Our dealings with the Alta and Huesos cut off a supply the mayor had through the docks. All of it was arranged for the Mano Cartel. We fucked their transportation route in SoCal that gave them direct access to the U.S. and Mexico. Martin used the excuse that he thinks I can be her best protection possible, but I know this was all about cash flow. He was losing money and he needed to get himself rolling again.”

Leaving the wall he’d been leaning against and wandering to one of the leather chairs in front of my desk, Poc finally takes a seat. “I still don’t like her around you. That’s bad history.”

Snickering, I smile as I lean back in my chair to look at the bar cameras, sussing out Toni and if she’s been taken care of. “Yeah. More than I care to admit. Seeing Toni again has definitely struck a few chords.”

“Keep it to striking chords. Let’s not get to bumpin’ the fucking uglies stage.” Leave it to my little brother to think my only reason for doing this is the sex.

“Poc, if sex is a part of this, it’s because I want to fuck her out of my system.” I won’t admit it to his young ass, but she’s been taking up real estate for years in my head and she needs to go.

“So. We’re doing this for the money?” Boyd chirps, knowing he’s asking about Toni without asking if this is about wanting Toni.

“If it helps us rebuild the clubhouse, and if along the way we bank a bit, we’re all the better for it. I’ll protect her for the pure reason of saving the club. Nothing more.” At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

Seeing Toni hanging around here, it could be hard, but for the sake of the club, I’ll keep this relationship strictly business. Even if I want to rip her panties off and shred her voice with my cock.

Content with the answers, stepping toward me with a hand out, I reach out to shake Des’s hand. “We’ve followed you into tighter spots, Death. I think you’ll do right by us.”

Boyd does the same, though his reply is more in line for what I’d expected from everyone. “This better be about the cash, brother. If it isn’t and you’re what breaks the club, I’ll be the first to remove you from the gavel.” Giving me a stare, waiting for my head nod or comment of agreement, I do.

Heading for the door, each shifts to leave except Poc. Once Des, Tweet, Thunder, and Boyd exit, leaving me with my kid brother, in a serious tone I didn’t think he possessed, he states, “I may hate it, but I get it, Brother. Just make sure if you need help, you ask.”

“Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”

---