Page 41 of Bound By Fate
Dryerson opened the door without knocking and came into the room. “Got club business. Ensley, can you stay?”
“Yeah. Does Micah have to go?”
“Yeah.”
He came over to the bed, leaned down, and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Okay. Be safe.”
He smiled, and then he was gone.
“You need to lock that man in. Kissing you on the forehead. That man has game.”
As if I didn’t already know that.
Most nights he was all I thought about. Same with tonight, when I finally fell asleep.
13
DRYERSON
We hadfeelers out everywhere for information on what had happened at that warehouse. We all had come to the conclusion that this was a setup by someone who didn’t give two shits about killing people who were supposedly part of his crew.
That was some twisted shit there. The guy obviously had no loyalty.
We were hoping a tip we’d got from one of our clients, Tommy, would pan out. That was where we were headed, to Tommy’s place.
Once again, Micah and I were in the SUV. The guys had to be fucking with us. We hadn’t seen the back of a bike with these men in what felt like forever.
The inside of the meeting place was dark. A typical dive bar that looked like it should have been shut down years ago, but somehow, they kept it afloat. There was a large bar to the left, and a wide open space to the right. Then there were two doors. One had a window and looked like it led to the kitchen area. The other door must be the bathroom.
Tommy sat in the corner of the bar. His hair had a comb-over that looked like it had been fucking teased by a brush. It seemed he was having a hard time with getting older and losing his hair. Three other men sat around him. Sizing them up, they had bulk, but numbers alone had us on top.
“Let’s make a deal,” Tommy said to Cruz as he sat at the table, which was ballsy. Even though we were in his place, Ravage would shoot first and ask questions later. He had to know that.
Cruz put his elbows on the table and stared at Tommy. He didn’t like that shit either. I was curious to know what way he would go.
“And what’s that?” Cruz finally asked. It was foreplay, though. I could tell by Cruz’s face, but only because I’d been around him a lot over these past months. To the normal eye, they’d miss it.
“Ghost guns.”Fuck.
“Yeah…” Cruz prompted.
“I need five of them. You get them for me, I give you the information.” Tommy sat back in the seat, his arms stretched out like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Ghost guns were hard as fuck to get your hands on. The reason being, they were made all by hand and had zero identification on them. If it was used in a murder, the cops could trace the bullet type to the gun, but not to the ghost gun.
Those fuckers were untraceable, which made them expensive as hell as well.
“Those will cost ya more than the information.”
Tommy smiled and nodded. “I expected so, but I want a discount.”
Cruz crossed his arms over his chest. “How do I not know you’re full of shit?” he challenged.
“I have a little incentive for you.”
Cruz’s brow quirked, and I kept my eyes on everything in the room. One could never be too careful these days.
