Page 53 of Death's Deal

“Spit it out, man,” Trigger states. He’d been so quiet I almost didn’t remember he was here.

Blowing out a heavy breath, he sighs. “Jaz.”

Standing, slamming my hands on the table, and wanting no more than to flip the fucking thing over, I find myself shouting, “Not a fucking chance! There’s no way I’ll agree to that monster having my sister in his grasp.”

Quickly joining my answer, Busta firmly states his reply, “No.”

As each of us in turn states the same, Johnson holds a hand up to catch our attention. “Fine then. The government is ready to take everything you own, and each of you will be in jail for the next foreseeable forty years. Unless you choose option A. If you choose option B and fight, each of you will go to jail for what we do know of your past exploits, and Jazmine will go with Murianos anyway. If you go along with this, your sister still goes with Murianos, but you keep your clubs. Your families are safe, and the government forgets your past indiscretions.” Staring at Toni and me, he hands her a second envelope.

“I’m sorry. This is what happens when you are in bed with the intelligence agencies who wish this to move forward.” Pausing and waiting for her to open it, Johnson doesn’t say another word.

Ripping the top off of it, a selection of stacked photos peeks out. Pulling them free, Toni gasps. As I grab it up, even as Cap and Busta call my name, I freeze at what I see. Black-and-white photos fly to the table face down. I’m seething. My hands shake as I extend my fingers and dig them into my hand as I clench. “What the hell is this?”

“Remember it’s not my choice, Death. When they said all family members included, they meant it,” Johnson states it almost apologetically as he turns to Cap, Joker, Miss, and Trigger, handing them each their own tiny white envelopes. Pulling the tops off, staring at their own hidden lives broadcast by the government, their indiscretions, infidelities, secret lives, and unknown histories. Everyone has been put in a position to choose between my sister or their own lives.

Alarmed and clearly afraid, Toni pipes up, “My son is included in this?”

“It’s not just those who are a part of the club. It includes all of your families.” Pausing for a moment he thinks about his next comment, looking down at his watch. “In twenty minutes your father and Carlos are being indicted on racketeering, money laundering, bribery, and a slew of other lesser charges. They’ll be going to jail for a very long time, with or without the outcome of this. It was a stipulation of the deal we’d already struck with the DEA.” Looking at Toni, he holds up a hand. “Before you ask, no. There’s nothing you can do to change that. Your son is in Malibu with a friend. Know that we’ve already been in contact with him. For now, he is free of the blowback from their dealings, as long as the clubs pick the right path.” He turns the door handle to exit. “I’ve been tasked with either your compliance or your disobedience by the end of the day. I pushed for twenty-four hours for you, but they wouldn’t go for it. I have to have your answer by midnight. Personally, I hate the choice you have to make, and I will tell you, I don’t envy you.” Popping the door, his tone is almost despondent and sorrowful.

“My boss and those involved don’t know you as I do, and I appreciate the help you have given already. I know losing your way of life is not an option, but would Jazmine let you? That’s what you really need to ask yourselves.” Without another word, Johnson steps out the door, leaving us with the paperwork, and a great deal of seething anger.

As the door closes behind Johnson, Cap throws his paperwork across the room. As it flutters apart, falling like leaves, he pockets the tiny white envelope in his cut. “How much more do we need to do for them before they fuck right off?”

With a calm I didn’t think any of us possessed at a time like this, Busta asks Miss, “Do we get a choice in this, brother?”

Laying the paperwork on the table in front of him, folding over the legal bullshit and the file Johnson gave him personally, Miss seems ill at ease. Whatever it is Johnson gave him has put him on edge. With his heavy timbered voice, he states, “Sorry, man. No. Not that I can see. They’ve really tied this up tight, Boss.”

“So, we either do as they ask, or we end up doing what we don’t want to anyway. Not really a choice, if you ask me,” Joker clips. Holding his own file aloft, he shouts, “And how did he know about this? I didn't even know. I wanted to, but on my terms, not theirs.”

Strange? But okay.

Every one of us is now on alert. The government knew more about us than we did. Trigger is picking at the skin around his nails—his nervous tell—not to mention Radish is trying to scratch the door down to get to him. Joker tries to seem unnerved, but the lines around his eyes are furrowed and tight. He’s bothered by the news he was shown. And Miss? Miss is distracted. A man who is usually calm under pressure seems anxious and ready to run from church to find out the truth of whatever is in his file.

“Put your fucking feet down, Joker. My brother’s church is not a lounge,” Cap snaps.

With a smile, and that sideways grin of his, Joker does as he’s told super slowly. Under pressure I’ve learned Joker, jokes, kids, or otherwise pisses others off to keep the levity going. It’s all a facade to avoid his own discomfort in the situation.

Breaking the awkward silence, I say what we’re all thinking, “It’s not just us who is taking a chance at jail time, this could reverberate on all of the members. We could be leaving families out in the cold. This is bigger than one club, one person, or one moment. This has the ability to damage us all.”

Cap leans forward, scrubs his fingers through his scalp, and looks my way. “Death, man. This is your fucking sister.”

“She is, but this affects more than just the Army and my family.” Looking at Busta, I know this has to be weighing on him. For a few months now he and Jaz have grown closer. I know his heart is attached to this decision.

“J isn’t someone who’ll take our betrayal well. And this... this is a betrayal, boys,” Miss’s heavy voice states just what I was thinking. “Jaz will rip us all a new one if we involve her without her knowledge. Then again. If we tell her about it, she’ll grab the closest gun and take aim at the softest skin she can find.”

“Gotta say, the woman is crafty,” Joker interjects with a grin.

“Quinny, she was vicious when you went to jail.” Antonia’s soft voice breaks the heavy timbre volumes of ours. She shrugs as we all look her way. “What? She was. I had glue added to my shampoo bottles in PE class, my locker was broken into, and each time it was filled with bags of shit. Like, fresh dog shit.”

I’m surprised by this revelation. “Why didn’t you tell me about it then? I would’ve done something.”

“Quinny, you wouldn’t even speak to me. What makes you think you would’ve somehow miraculously stopped your sister’s systemic torture of me from jail?”

Seeing Miss mouth to Busta, “Quinny?” I roll my eyes and give them a tad more background.

Cursing under my breath, I eye Toni, and blow out a hot breath. “Antonia calls me Quinny for my middle name. Quinlan.”

I can see the boys biting their tongues, badly wishing to rib me for the nickname, but thankfully each let it lie.

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