Page 22 of Ruin
“That’s not a solution.”
He grins. “Nice to know you think so highly of me.”
“Fuck you, Grizz, you useless piece of shit.”
“What’s going on?” Prez asks, walking out from down the hall.
“We need eighteen grand,” I say, not wanting to repeat this bullshit all over again, but I should get used to it. I’ll have to do a lot of explaining if I want to figure this out.
“For what?” he asks.
I huff a sigh of annoyance, before saying, “Paperwork got fucked up. We’re short for the rebuild.”
“Well, that’s not our problem anymore.”
My eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
“We’re done with this, Snapper. We did our part, now we need to move on. We need to focus on other shit, like getting these runs down, cracking down on the border, and keeping those Iron pricks the fuck out of our territory.”
“It is my duty to handle this, and I will finish it.”
“No the fuck you will not. We have a schedule to adhere to. This was finished as of Saturday, when the charity event was over.”
“Are you fucking with me?” I ask.
“Do I look like I’m fucking with you?”
I take a step toward him, ready to tear him limb from limb. The only thing I like about this club is helping the kids in this town. Maybe if they get all the shit they need, they can get the fuck out of this place and make something of themselves. They’re never going to do that if they don’t have the resources, especially when they have shitty people like this asshole holding them back.
Grizz grabs my arm and steps between me and Prez. “Let’s go for a walk, yeah?” I blink a few times and his eyes come into focus. “Yes?” he says. It comes out like a question, but it sounds like more of a demand.
I shake him off and storm out the front door and down the path to the bar. Trudy isn’t here, so I lean over the counter and grab a bottle from behind. Whiskey. Perfect. I twist the cap off and whip it across the room as I bring the bottle to my lips and drink.
“You good?” Grizz asks from behind me.
I slam the bottle onto the bar. “No.”
“Clearly. What the fuck is going on?”
“I told you. We need—”
“Nah, this is more than that.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I glare at him. “No.”
“I’ve known you a long fucking time, Snapper. Few things rattle you. Money and the Prez? He didn’t fuck you up like this.”
I grab the bottle and take another swig, the alcohol warming my insides. It never works quickly enough.
“We can’t be fighting him like this,” he says.
“Like hell we can’t,” I say. “He’s a fucking dick.”
“Keep it quiet when you say that shit, Snapper. We don’t need the wrong person hearing it.”
“Fuck him. Fuck them. Fuck you, too!” I shout. “You think I care what that means? What are they going to do? Kick me out? Good!”
“Whoa,” he says, coming closer. “Listen, you don’t have to tell me what you’re so pissed about, that’s fine, but let’s not do anything crazy, okay? You love the club.”
