“I built relationships.”
He snorted knowingly. I didn’t add anything else. The answer I gave was a stock answer, anyway, one that could just as easily apply to reporting on the Arizona Congress as on local gossip about real estate development.
“And so I sought to create a more balanced picture, one that showed the Patriots in a fair light.”
“Seems to me your work did the opposite.”
“If by work you mean employer, yes. WPTV apparently had its own ideas.”
“I see. So unfortunate.”
King shook his head. He looked so at ease. Meanwhile, I kept looking over his shoulders to see if anyone from a biker club would come in here to attempt a hit. But judging by the number of people who had their eyes peeled and bulges on the side of their pants, doing so would be a suicidal mission.
No wonder King was so at ease.
“How common it is in this world to build good work that we believe will help the world at large, only to have a greedy corporation come in and bastardize it. I have to imagine that has happened a lot to you, Miss Cook.”
I took in a deep breath. He knew how to hit my weak points. No wonder they called him King.
“More than I’d care to admit, yes.”
“I see. Well, here is what I would tell you, Miss Cook. I am sure that you have heard the rumors about me being with the Devil’s Patriots. I am sure that Satan has told you that I am a menace and that I am not to be trusted.”
Not Satan. Google. And then Satan.
“And rather than sit here and tell you I am misunderstood and they are not true, I am here to tell you I am misunderstood and that they are true. You see, I admit to being, let’s say, above the law sometimes. But I also admit to wanting a world without chaos. Clubs like the Devil’s Patriots and, I’m sure you’ve heard, the Black Reapers, thrive on chaos. Think about how many times you’ve heard reports on them being terrors, whether implicitly or out in the world. They’re everywhere. But with me? You don’t hear reports, just rumors. It’s controlled. It’s contained.”
I didn’t say a word, but I was curious where this was going.
“The Devil’s Patriots have been a thorn in my side for some time now. A club named ‘Devil’s Patriots’ can never be an entity of peace and calm in a town like this. You may think that they’re misunderstood, and I actually agree with you—but not in the way you think. You see a club that is unfairly maligned for things they haven’t done. I see a club unfairly maligned, but because people malign them for things they haven’t done rather than things they will do at some point. Somewhere, over the next several months, violence will erupt. And when it happens, it will be primarily from the Devil’s Patriots.”
He leaned forward.
“I am concerned about what would happen to this town if the Devil’s Patriots are not taken care of in a timely manner, Miss Cook. I can make that change, but I need to have help. That is why I have come to you.”
He smiled.
“You’re making, what? Twenty-one thousand dollars a year right now?”
That was…right on the money. I had no idea how he knew exactly what I was making, but I didn’t really want to know, honestly.
“Close enough,” I said.
“So poor that even purchasing something from here was something you had to think about,” he said with a sigh. “Poor girl. And on top of that, WPTV isn’t just paying you nothing; they’re taking away your voice and your creative freedom. In short, you work because you have to, certainly not because you want to. But I can change that for you, and not just in terms of paying you more money.”
I gulped. This was a bribe. I knew—
“I want you to become the face of my entity, the King’s Men,” he said. “Online, we are but another MC. In reality, though, we are a chain of repair shops and other blue-collar businesses that do quite well.”
And criminal-collar businesses that do even better but probably aren’t known.
“I want you to shoot videos for us, to make connections, and to be the go-to person for building relationships. You see, look at me. I am an old white guy who refuses to give up on his hairstyle from his youth.”
He let out his most boisterous laugh yet. It looked ridiculous coming from an older man in a white suit, but I sure as hell didn’t call him out for it.
“And I want you to start by going to the Devil’s Patriots and getting as much information from them as you can,” he said. “If you choose to work with me, I’d want a copy of the original film you shot. Anything you have would be useful.”
“And if I don’t work with you?”
