“All right, there’s a place that does hot sandwiches about two blocks down the road, let’s—”
“Works for me.”
Satan just started walking without even waiting for me. I did my best to remind myself that Satan was not acting rudely on purpose; he just had no training on manners.
And I reminded myself for what felt like the thousandth time that that didn’t matter for the purposes of procuring more interviews and more footage.
“So what about you, journalist?” he said, turning back to me as I caught up to him.
“What about me?”
“The hell is your story? You know, the shit you talk about on TV all the time?”
I smiled.
“I come from a family of four. Have an older sister. She actually used to live here.”
“Oh yeah? Attractive as you?”
Actually, she dated one of you. And she got run off and harassed.
“She’s more on the quiet side. She doesn’t like to be talked about as much.”
“Oh, funny, I thought that that was stupid.”
I had to laugh at that. Even if it was in reference to something that was bound to make all ofthismore complicated and difficult.
“With you as an individual, it is. But you’ll notice when I asked about your son and…other things, I didn’t press.”
Satan went quiet. But at least he didn’t start fuming with anger again.
“By the way, this is the spot,” I said, thankful that the restaurant, Sammy’s, was now in view.
When we walked inside, I noticed something strange. There were men dressed like Satan, but they didn’t have the same patches, the same logos, or the same markings on their sleeveless jackets as Satan did. There were three of them—two on the opposite ends of the height spectrum, one of them with more tattoos than Dennis Rodman.
There was a brief silence as the three of them had a staredown with Satan before the tattooed one spoke.
“Guess he’s learning what we have,” he said.
“Mind your own business, Reapees,” Satan said.Did he mean Reapers? That doesn’t exactly sound friendly.“You stay the fuck out of my way; I stay the fuck out of yours.”
“Have it your way for now,” the tall one said. “You won’t be saying that long.”
“Are you threatening me?” Satan said.
But the other three didn’t say a word, instead taking their half-eaten food and their cups outside. They disappeared around a corner.
“What was that all about?”
“Club business.”
“Which means?”
“Which means it’s something you don’t ask about.”
I knew well enough from the previous time not to press.
“I keep that shit from you because the more you get involved in it, the more dangerous shit’s going to be for you,” he said in a low voice, but he wasn’t so quiet that the sub maker’s eyes didn’t go wide. “We don’t live peaceful lives. The more you know, the more someone less friendly and gentle than I could use you. Stay stupid, stay safe.”
