Page 295 of Merciless Desires

Fuck, I owe Kiko my life because my Baby girl called him to help with my gunshot wounds since he was a doctor in the Marines.

Stupid fuck Nestor, he helped my Baby girl out with that bastard Ralph, the Royal Mambas gang leader. That motherfucker Ralph wanted to keep Leticia. He’s the bastard that raped her when she was in high school on a date, yeah, a date rape. Nestor is still on my shit list since he was part of the Royal Mambas and Ralph’s second, but he did everything to protect my Baby girl.

Motherfucker.

I promised my Baby girl that I’ll help both motherfuckers to prospect, but I better not regret it.

“Yeah, Tex, you’re right. I’m just a little wary that they won’t cut it,” I say, lifting my shoulders and finishing off my beer.

“Yeah, I hear you but remember that they did save your ass,” Tex says, lifting his chin to Kade and asking for another beer.

“I’m going to talk to the Prez; want to go with me to the store,” I ask, sliding off the stool.

“Yeah,” Tex says, grabbing the other beer from the prospect.

I walk into the secured area, down the hall, to see my Prez. I stop at the closed door, knocking.

“Enter,” Prez growls.

I open the door, looking into the room, nodding.

“Prez, do you have a minute,” I ask, walking into the room.

“Yeah, what’s up,” Prez asks, crossing his arms.

“Nestor and Kiko would like to prospect,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Oh yeah? Nestor did help us get our money and package back. He did help save your old lady,” the Prez says, rubbing his chin.

“Yeah, and Kiko helped me when I was shot,” I say, clenching my jaw.

“We need to have a vote in Church,” the Pez says, running his hand through his thinning hair.

“Yeah, that works,” I say, nodding.

“Right, you’re sponsoring them,” the Prez asks, lifting his eyebrow and looking at me.

“Yeah, they saved my old lady and me. I’m going to sponsor them,” I say, nodding.

“Right,” the Prez says, leaning forward to grab a cigarette.

“Thanks. Later,” I say, walking out of the room, down the hall to the main room. I walk over to my bro Tex.

“Hey, are you ready to go,” I ask, sliding onto the stool and lifting my chin to the prospect to get me a beer.

“Yeah, after I finish my beer,” Tex smirks, taking a pull.

“Right,” I say, nodding. I take the beer bottle from the prospect taking a long pull.

Fuck!

An hour later, I walked into Anderson’s jewelry store with Tex. The older lady nods, her eyelids lower, and nervously looks at me. She tries hard not to panic by clutching her hands tight.

Fuck!

I look around the room for Bob Anderson, the owner; then I look at her.

Fuck!

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