Page 73 of Painless
"Don't leave us in suspense now," Reaper growled.
"Governor Youngblood reached out to our main employer, Governor Vance—"
"Of what territory?"
"Four Corners," T-Bone snarled. "Ain't a big territory, but it's essential. Blink and you'll miss it."
"And what do you do for this governor?"
"The usual shit," T-Bone rumbled. "Patrol and protection. Inspection and oversight of trade. Do you want me to get to the point, or not?"
"So you're a good lap dog to politicians," I sneered. "Sure, go on."
"It's not like that." Dyno, the road captain, spoke up for the first time. "Vance doesn't do those power games. His trade is fair, he doesn't keep slaves, and no one goes hungry in Four Corners. But everyone wants a piece of the good thing he's got, so he employed us. Paid fucking well, I might add."
"So he loaned you to Uncle Jerry because...?"
"He gave us the choice," T-Bone picked up again. "It was a temporary contract with a fat payout. We'd been itching to ride somewhere new, break up the routine, so we said why the fuck not?"
"Did Vance know Gunner's uncle?" Reaper asked.
"Not well, I don't think. They'd never done business before, to my knowledge. It sounded like Vance was open to a trade agreement if our contract went well."
"I see," Reaper mused. "Go on."
"So we ride to Colorado—"
"Jerriton," I mumbled.
"Whatever. We get there, and this guy is living like a king. He's like Tony Montana, or some shit."
"Tell me about it." I rubbed my forehead.
"He had a lot to say about you," T-Bone's gaze narrowed at me. "It was pretty clearly a delusion, but he was convinced his golden nephew would fill his shoes one day. The heir to the Youngblood legacy."
"And you probably saw by my reaction to his severed hand, that I want no part in that shit."
"Let's hurry this shit up," Reaper sighed. "How did y'all go from working for him, to cutting his hand off and getting your place torched?"
“Right. The job itself went without a hitch. We escorted a general’s troops up from the south—”
“New Mexico?” I barked. “They call it New Ireland, now?”
“Fuck, if you don’t quit interrupting me. Yes, New Ireland.”
I slapped my palms together and looked pointedly at Reaper. I fuckingknewit. Uncle Jerry thought he was getting a cut of that land, but Tash would fuck him over, just like he did everyone else. Under the guise of being allies, Tash had invaded my uncle instead.
“Go on,” Reaper implored T-Bone.
“Yeah, we finished the job. Went to collect our pay.” He sucked his lip between his teeth. “Fucker wouldn’t let us leave.”
“Wouldn’tletyou?” I repeated. “How does an MC worth its saltletsomeone else control where they’re going?”
“Your uncle took us prisoner,” Dyno spat. “Those troops we escorted barricaded him in that mansion. And he orderedhispeople not to let us out of our wing. We’d be shot on sight if we were let out.”
Reaper and I exchanged another long, narrowed glance. It felt like sheer, dumb luck that Uncle Jerry let me walk away when he did. Maybe because I came alone, and one biker wasn’t enough of a personal guard detail. That, or some small part of him still cared about his family enough to let me make my own decisions. I’d never know now. But if I had gone up there at a different time, maybe with more guys to back me up, we might have met the same fate as the Sons of Odin.
“What did my uncle want from you?” I asked when the Sons fell silent.
