Page 8 of Violent God

DeLeon says, “At first glance, I thought it was blackmail. There was a, uh, very detailed list of things I’ve done over the years.”

“How detailed?” I ask.

“Ten pages front and back.”

“Were there names?”

“Names. Current addresses. Statements. Photos.” His voice rises a notch with each word.

“Sounds like blackmail to me,” Jones says.

“They said they were going to kill me!” The words rush out of DeLeon’s mouth. “Whoever sent the letter didn’t ask for money. They only said that I should repent before I died.” He swallows audibly. “They also said I would be dead before my next birthday.”

Which is in two weeks.

I say, “Read the letter to us in its entirety.”

He does, from start to finish.

There’s a long pause when he’s done.

“Jesus,” Jones mutters. “No wonder they want you dead.”

I rarely agree with Jones, but I agree with him on this. If DeLeon didn’t have the Brotherhood protecting him, he’d already be in prison or dead for the sins and crimes he’s committed.

DeLeon asks, “So…what are we going to do?”

Hell no.Wearen’t doing anything. This doesn’t fall under my jurisdiction.

“Gentlemen, as much as I’d like to sit here while you figure this out, I must bow out, as this is beyond my pay grade. In fact, I’m taking a hiatus. This is my official notice.”

“But—but it does affect you, Moretti!”

I snort. “How in the hell do you figure?”

“Because if I die, you’re next in line to become an Elite Member.”

Fucking hell.

Taking my silence as weakness, DeLeon continues, “If you don’t help, then one might wonder if you’re behind the letters. You have the resources…”

My jaw tics. I will not take his bait, but I’m also not going to sit here and take his shit.

“Several members have the same resources that I do, DeLeon. You planning on bringing them in on this as well? Hell, while we’re at it, maybe we should hold a special meeting. Call Rule 47 into act.”

DeLeon won’t walk out of that room if Rule 47 is invoked. All of his sins would be laid out in front of the entire Brotherhood, and he would be killed. The Brotherhood may have rules I don’t agree with, but this isn’t one. Justice would be served by taking DeLeon’s life and all would be well in the world.

“Now let’s not?—”

“I’m not finished, you piece of shit. As for your other allegation, I’m fully fucking aware that I’m next in line for a spot on the committee if someone dies. Just as Henderson, Carter, Santos, and anyone else in line is aware.” I pause to catch my breath. “You’ve dug yourself into this grave, quite literally it sounds, so you can find a way out. If this is the last time we speak, then I hope you rot in hell.”

Someone covers a laugh with a cough, and not very well at that.

“As I said before. I’m going on hiatus. Don’t call me unless there’s an act of God.”

Zhang replies smoothly, “As is your right, Moretti. DeLeon, you best get your affairs in order unless you can figure this out in two weeks. Gentlemen, I’m signing off.”

Not wanting to get caught in the aftermath of this, I end my call, too. Unsurprisingly, Blanc sends me a text before I drop my phone.

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