I kept thinking about how, at every single meeting we ever had, Cole never said that much…but when he did, the room seemed to go silent and calmer. His brother wasn’t quite as reverential, but perhaps sensing the respect everyone else did for him, he never interrupted. Cole was also one of the first to come to Phoenix and speak to us, which said a lot.
I had Cole’s number from our previous meetings. This was probably violating some sort of unwritten protocol, but I went ahead and called him. If my father had an issue with it, we’d hash it out later. Better to have the sin of commission than omission right now.
“Sonny?”
Cole sounded surprised. I would have, too, if he’d reached out directly to me.
“I’m calling you about the King situation.”
“You are?” he said. “You know your dad could kill you if he finds out you’re going over his head.”
I couldn’t tell if Cole was being literal. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
“I don’t really much care. I feel like we need to fight differently, and I’m coming to you on this because you’re the smartest of the bunch.”
I then proceeded to outline everything that I had thought of. I knew Cole wouldn’t rat on me—or at least, I knew well enough to be paranoid to not be surprised if my father or Spawn found out. They’d honestly figure it out sooner or later but defeating King would have a way of patching over a lot of wounds if we could just get that done.
“I agree a hundred percent with you,” Cole said.
“Then we should start bringing in reinforcements,” I said. “Not so much to go on the offensive, but to protect ourselves when the time comes. There’s, what, five of you in town right now?”
“And not the same five.”
Which just proved my point even further.
“Tell your men to get to town soon. We’ll communicate to my father what’s going on, but the time for moving forward has come.”
Halfway through my words, a beeping came to signal another call. I looked down at the phone and saw my father calling me back.
“Yeah, I’ll reach out and—”
“Cole, my dad’s calling. I’ll call you back.”
I pressed the button to switch calls. Cole had gotten the point; he didn’t need me to wrap it up with a pleasant goodbye for it to hammer home.
“Satan,” I said.
Answering phone calls was always a weird thing. Whenever I was at the clubhouse, I called him Satan; outside of those contexts, I called him Dad. The problem was I never knew where he was calling from or for what purposes, so it could lead to some awkward moments where I called him Dad and he was at church.
“Sonny, or should I say, Solomon Briggs.”
That was not my father’s voice.
It was King’s.
“What the fuck have you—”
“I know you’re probably screaming into your phone right now, wondering what has happened. You would be right to be concerned. After all, we have access to your father’s phone.”
I paused. That…that was a fucking recording? It sure sounded like it. When King spoke, I interrupted by shouting random words and curses, but it didn’t disrupt him. He didn’t even change his tone.
“Well, worry not. I will inform you of what happened. Your father did not stay alert and got beaten into a coma at his home.”
Jesus fucking Christ. They’re attacking us in our homes now?
“He failed to take my offer of negotiations seriously, speaking in a condescending and dismissive manner. Of course, he is within his rights to do so, just as we are in our rights to respond as we have.”
My hand was shaking. I could feel the anger rising to levels I hadn’t felt in some fucking time. I was fucking infuriated beyond all fucking measure.
