Page 73 of Reaper Razed

“Kent?” Dane barks. “Are you serious.” He shakes his head. “Kent is an imbecile.”

“Kent is good at what he does.” I say firmly.

“No! Kent tells you he’s good at what he does, but the guy’s a fuckwit.”

“Look, we need to keep everything close to our chests on this one,” I tell Dane to placate him further.

“That’s exactly why I need to be the one on this.”

“He’s right. Kent’s a twat knuckle if ever there was one! Dane should handle this. He’s more than an upgrade on fucking Kent!” Ray's input is always so “professional”. I’ve no idea how we thought this meeting would go through the correct channels.

“You know I agree with them.” Bran adds. I don’t know why they get three votes. They vote the same way they always have. They have each other's back regardless. They’re an immovable force once they lock their answers in.

“Fine!” Bernie mumbles. It’s been a long, long, long few weeks, and I think we’re ready to be done.

Ring Ring Ring

Glancing at the phone it’s the encrypted line. I nod to Ray, “You're up, you're in charge now.”

She scoops the phone up barking down the line.

“What?”

“Where’s Daniel?”

“Dead! …Dean? …Is that you?” She spits down the phone.

“Fuck. Yeah Ray, It’s me. I need your help.”

“Where the fucks Rocco?”

“Dead.”

“Motherfucker!”

“I need to triple our order.”

“Is this gonna blow up in my face Dean? I swear to Hades I will skin you alive!”

“No. Always a pleasure Ray, say hi to the chuckle brothers for me.”

“Motherfucker hung up!” Ray tosses the phone down.

“What the fuck do The Rippers want triple the guns for?” I ask her.

“How the fuck should I know, you heard as much as I did!”

“Right if we're done here I need to have a word in private with you, Ray, before you head downstairs to sort out your stuff.”

“You’re doing this now?” Bernie winces.

“I'm doing this now.”

“Come on, boys, we will head down and get started.” Ray nods to them, and they head off after Bernie. They don’t have secrets, and I know she’ll tell them straight away, but we need to have this conversation alone.

“Here.” I pull a chair around for her to sit in and pull the other one so it’s facing hers, and we both sit. I lean forward on my elbows and chew on my thumb. She slaps my hand away.

“Spit it out, Pa! Whatever it is, I can't deal with it till you spill.”

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