Page 63 of Death's Deal

Chapter 34

Bennett

“Bullshit. My family would never betray me like that. Never.”

“Jazmine,” Johnson starts, “We—”

I hold a hand up. “I don’t want to hear from you, Agent. My brother should be speaking.”

Cutting in again before anyone can answer, Murianos states with superiority, “Your familia was left with no choice in this matter. I had a way out and they were my exit strategy. You are their payment for saving themselves.”

Shocked, she teeters on her feet before grasping her chair to steady herself, flexing and balling her hands. “I still call bullshit.”

“J, we had no choice,” speaking quietly from the other side, where he’s surrounded by agents, Busta draws her ire his way.

“You can’t say that to me! You”—she points her finger around the room at all of us—“YOU all knew what was going on. You know what he’s done! Whatever you’re planning is wrong!” Tears stream down her face. “Bennett. You know all the reasons why you shouldn’t do this.”

Taking a deep breath to choke back the tears that threaten to fall, all of my emotions are devoid at this moment. “There is too much at stake.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true,” Johnson pipes up.

“You’re selling me to him! You are my family.” Looking around at each of us, her pinpoint focus highlights my shame she must see. “We always promised each other to look out for one another. You’re my blood. My brother. Bennett? Please.”

Choking back on the pain that settles in my chest like a lead balloon, I don’t wait for Murianos to prolong this pain further. I tell her, “We voted.”

As if I had slapped her across the face, the betrayal is written plainly. “My life was decided by a vote? A fucking vote!”

Dusting the tears off of her face with the heels of her hands, she turns to Murianos, Johnson, and their like with disdain. Pure ire lights the fire in her eyes. “Well. I guess I don’t get a vote?” When no one answers her, she continues, “I guess the decision was made. My whole fucking family’s a gaggle of pussies.”

“Ja—”

“I’m cutting you off there, Bennett. No lies, no more comments, and no more votes. You’re dead to me.” Striding across the space with her back ramrod straight and her shoulders held back, she steps to Johnson. “Let’s get this show on the road then. There’s nothing here for me.”

Turning my way, looking at Busta, Cap, and each of the other members, Johnson looks for us to argue. To fight for her. We know there’s no use, we had to make this bed and now lie in it. With a nod, he points to his men to escort Jazmine and Murianos out the front.

“We will fix this, J. I promise,” I tell her. “We’ll get you out.”

My sister is far deadlier now than she has ever been. This will not end well and even though we knew that going in, I had hoped I’d find a way out.

“Your promises are bullshit, Bennett.” Leaving, flanked by agents, she doesn’t look over her shoulder at me as she heads for the door. I know my sister, she isn’t lying. As far as she’s concerned, we are dead. All of us.

With a bag in tow, the bag that was situated quite neatly in the saddlebag of my bike, I watched as the thieving asshole hands the bag to Johnson. “What the fuck!” I yelled, standing so fast I nearly knocked Toni to the floor. Grasping her before she fell, I sidestepped her to face Johnson. “Why the fuck do you have that? It was in my bike. Did you have a fucking warrant, Agent Johnson?”

Wrapping the messenger bag over his shoulder, he states, “As a matter of fact”—pulling out a folded set of papers from his back pocket, he hands them to me—“I did. This warrant gives us access to all of your properties, offices, and homes to search out documents pertaining to the Queen. I’d seen you with it the other day at the Bows’ clubhouse. I didn’t assume you’d let it out of your sight.” He taps the bag gently. “I was right.”

“Fuck you! You take my sister, you threaten to take our lives and those of our families, and now you can eyeball our whole world through a microscope? What kind of bullshit is this?” I’m so fucking furious that now that a few of the agents have exited with Murianos and J, the odds are closer to winnable.

“I know you don’t like it. I know you’re also eyeing the room and thinking you may have the upper hand now, but remember, taking us out doesn’t change the outcome. Stepping back, keeping his distance and his well-armed coworkers close by, heading slowly for the door, Johnson states softly and with care, “I will take care of her. I promise.”

“You will need to keep that promise. You might have our balls in a vise right now, but it won’t be forever, Johnson. Watch your back.”

“Understood.” With that, Johnson strides to the front, following after my sister, Murianos, and the entourage.

Hearing the front door close with a heavy bang, the clang of it sets a lock around my soul. I don’t deserve to still own it. I sold it and my sister for the price of freedom.

Leaving us to wallow in our own self-hatred, none of us speak, none of us move, and we all feel the weight of our betrayal.

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