Page 18 of Mad Max

“Into what?”

Travis spares a subtle glance around, but it’s only me and Casper listening to him and Law talk. Even the inmate at the table knows not to listen. He might not be club, but I told the guys to pick him when we came up this way, knowing we all wouldn’t be able to sit at the same table. The guy uses a hearing aid, so he turns it off when he needs to. Like now.

“The kind of thing his king wouldn’t be a part of.”

“Does his king know?”

“Don’t know. Like I said, rumors don’t make a man. If someone thinks they know someone, they can easily dismiss what they hear till they see it with their own eyes. Why you asking all this? Someone get involved from your side?”

Law shakes his head quickly. Club might be involved in shit, but it ain’t deep enough that someone we know has been taken. Yet.

“No. An old lady got singed by some side fires that were set, but no further involvement. Planning to stop this before it gets further than that.”

Casper huffs a laugh, but only I hear it. Law is using all his fancy wording in this place, and it’s kind of funny to hear. Kitten got more than singed. Her work was aflame, and she almost burned with it. But sure, I guess in this coded meeting with eyes on us, probably inside this room and through the cameras, we can go with singed.

“Club usually get involved in shit that don’t really fuck with them?”

“We do if we think a target is still on one of our own backs.” Law chances a glance at Casper and me before he looks back to Travis. “We also started our own little involvement, but we keep it to the willing.”

A slow smile spreads across Travis’s lips. “You hear things, you know. Even in a place like this, word spreads fast.”

“Well, now you know. Club’s taken an interest in a few new areas. Spread the word, would ya? Club’s willing to look at any job that comes our way, but if it ain’t in line, we look elsewhere.”

“And where is that line, exactly?” Travis smirks as if he thinks our talk is just that. But it ain’t. We ain’t going to be like other clubs that just say one thing but do something else. Even if times get rough, which won’t happen, we ain’t crossing into an area we can’t live with. Club decided from the start that on this mercenary route, it’s a club rule and not a single person’s, or president’s, say. Hell, we even threw in anonymous voting for intense cases we had to call on. The club thought it through all the way and didn’t just come up with a half-baked idea.

“Same line you were willing to cross. We just make sure no one will get locked up for it.”

I watch something close to respect cross the eyes of my former cellmate. He did some shitty things, but he only got locked up for doing the right thing. No one really knows a man like Jimmy Travis, not even his niece. But I think I got to know him well enough when I was here to know we just got his stamp of approval.

Travis nods once. “You sound like friends of mine.”

“Yeah? Who might they be?”

“Crazy Eights.”

Law throws a look at Casper, and I just glare in confusion at Travis’s words.

“And who are they?”

Casper gets tense, and I get the feeling Law is asking a question he might already know the answer to. Or maybe not, but my prez sure as shit has heard of this group if Casper is no longer acting like just a travel buddy but a full-on enforcer now, his posture going from slouching over to ramrod straight.

“If you ain’t heard of them, you will. They like to poke their noses into things. Won’t be surprised if they don’t already have a few fingers in this mess.”

“With Duke?”

“Duke is a small business getting into a corporate gig, if you get me. Crazy Eights might know him as a player, but unless he’s got something they want, they go for the top. They don’t start in the mailroom. The kid might want to own the tower someday, but there’s a laundry list of others who can get there faster than him.”

“This tower, it local?”

“International, last I heard. They got four branches local, matching directions.” He looks to me, and I nod, understanding that code for one branch in each area of the compass: north, south, east, west. He’s used it before when he would give directions to his men in here on how he wanted them placed when a planned fight would break out so he could slip stuff to others. Or just kill a person. It happens when the shit is needed. Sometimes you have to take the law into your own hands when they sentence a child molester to just eighteen months.

“Duke got a mentor?” Law asks.

“Doubtful. Mentors don’t stick around; they get fired if they bring in a referral. They might get a bonus for selling more product, but they like to keep most of the hiring internal. Only way to get in is if you bring your own clients with you. Not many have enough to make it profitable, but Duke’s trying to gain a spot, like I said. Might even be vying for a direction since the lower area is out a boss right now, I hear.”

I haven’t been out of jail long enough not to read between the lines. Not sure how much Law and Casper are picking up on this, but I can explain it to them later. After all, it was the reason they brought me here. Not only because of my connection with Travis, hoping he would talk to me if he denied Law a meeting before we realized he already had a visitor, but ’cause I speak the language of those inside and know how to communicate back. Law is good with the bullshit of it all—he came several times to visit me—but only those who lived it fully comprehend.

“Thanks, the club appreciates it.”

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