Page 52 of Deranged (American Street Kings 3)

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Just, there’s something about her I don’t trust.”

“Like what?”

“It’s hard to explain. I feel like she’s hiding something.”

I snorted. “Are you serious? Alyx, all of us are hiding something or other. Not everyone is an open book.”

“I know.” She pulled her hand through her hair. “Just…be careful, okay? Out of all the men here, you have the biggest heart. I’d hate to see someone break it.”

“Uh…okay.” I rubbed the back of my neck, not sure whether I was exactly comfortable talking about my love life with Alyx. “Listen, I know we had, like, a connection or whatever you wanna call it. But I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“Okay.” She stepped back, holding her hands up in surrender. “I just want you to be careful.”

“And I will be.”

I turned and rushed out of the kitchen, wanting to catch up with Granite. That was the weirdest conversation I had ever had with Alyx. I appreciated her concern but didn’t like the fact that she thought my love life was open for discussion.

I caught up to Granite just as he reached the door. He glanced at my cut. “You need to get that tag stitched.”

“I know. It’ll be stitched before sundown.”

Granite nodded.

Dutch and Ink were already seated when we got there. Dutch appeared to be uncomfortable as hell in his new seat as VP, while Ink just seemed pissed. The room smelled like leather, smoke, and trouble.

“Where’s Manic?” I took my seat at the head of the table, and in the back of my mind, I wondered if I’d ever get used to it.

“I’m here.” Manic came prancing in, a huge grin on his scarred face.

I studied him. “What’s her name?”

“Jennifer. No,” he froze, “Jessica. No. Fuck.”

“Jesus—”

“No. It’s not Jesus either.”

“You’re supposed to have a motherfucker of a hangover, but instead you’re sitting here gloating over pussy.”

He shrugged. “If you got it, you got it.”

“Okay,” I called. “Let’s start this shit show, shall we?”

Dutch rolled his eyes. “Let’s.”

I glanced at Ink, his expression not cracking even a little. “Something on your mind, Ink?”

“Nothing you don’t already know.”

Granite and I looked at each other across the table. I hated that he sat so far away now. His place was next to me—or should I say, my place was next to him.

He gave me a slight nod, and I breathed in deeply. “Okay. First, Dutch,” I turned to him, “Granite says that boy we saved from his mom’s piece of shit boyfriend might know something about the snow going around.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I talked to him this morning. The dealers aren’t talking about who supplies the shit, but he’s heard the Pythons’ name come up in a few convos regarding the new drug.”

“That much, we suspected,” I muttered. “If the Pythons are behind this new lethal snow, my guess is the Sixes don’t know about it.”

Granite nodded. “Cocaine is their business, and they won’t like it when they hear their new arms dealer is moving in on their turf.”

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