I looked around as if trying to convey the fact to Crush that I was playing something close to the vest. The only difference between this and what I was doing before was it wasn’t just for show, but practical. I didn’t trust the fucking barista—King had a way of seemingly knowing every goddamn thing that went on in the Southwest, whether in Vegas, Phoenix, New Mexico, SoCal…he wasn’t God, and it was an exaggeration to say he knew everything, but there was far more that he knew than one would expect.
“Crush, do you ever feel like you don’t get your fair share of what you work for?”
The slightest flicker of a grimace gave me the answer I so desperately wanted. Yes. Crush knew the truth, no matter what followed from here.
“I eat what I kill.”
“Yes, but what if you’re not getting the full portion of your kill?”
I was very careful not to say “someone else,” let alone “King.” Crush may have been stupid, but he wasn’t so stupid he couldn’t function. I had to respect his boss still.
“I don’t understand,” Crush said, although the rising tone in his voice seemed to suggest he understood a little bit more than I wanted it to be.
“What I am saying, Crush, is that you’re a man of enormous potential. Just…I’m not talking anything crazy here. Just think about working to get more credit than you deserve right now, that’s all. You know? Like you’re a fucking dog, and I mean that in the best sense of the word. But you’re still somewhat on a leash.”
I held my breath as I said the last words. It was the closest I’d come to insulting him, I suppose. If this went badly, it could blow up literally on the spot. At best, he’d beat my ass until the cops came, and then I was practically marked for death.
But Crush seemed to digest what I said better than I anticipated. There was something in his eyes that suggested, I daresay, he actually fucking agreed with what I said. And even if all I did today was plant the seed, even if all that happened was that I set up a chain of events that would take months to unravel…it was one step to helping me out.
And helping Callie out.
Not that that mattered.
It does, you idiot.
“What else do you know about the Black Reapers?” he growled.
I’d gotten out of the meeting with Crush what I could. Anything more would make it too obvious I was trying to create internal strife. I didn’t need to create it—just nurture it. Mission fucking accomplished.
“They’re gathering for an attack on the warehouse this weekend,” I lied. “I think if you guys set up something, you can at least take a few of them out.”
“Great, but I mean what else do you know from the last year?” he said. “I know you’ve been fucking gone a long time. When I told King of your return, he said you needed to prove your worth.”
Fuck.
I was suddenly a hell of a lot closer to just fully pledging myself to the Black Reapers. King knowing…
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck!
That was the worst fucking scenario. I was tempted to outright just push for Crush to now fight back, if for no other reason than that it would create conflict faster, and it wasn’t like I had anything on my end to protect.
So I did what I was trying to do to the King’s Men.
I pretended there was strife one could push.
“They’re not nearly as cohesive as we’d be led to believe,” I said. “Forget for a moment the Reapers from California and New Mexico. Spawn, Sonny, Satan—they all can’t stand each other. Fucking hate each other’s guts.”
“Really,” Crush said, actually sounding surprised.
It was a lie I could run with. It wasn’t like the consequences would be any different when it unraveled on me.
“We always thought of them like the Black Reapers in California, drawn together by blood, but they’re more like the Carter brothers before they got back together. They tolerate each other’s presence for the sake of mutually assured survival, or what they think they can get with that, but I don’t really think they’re in a great position. From what I see, they’re one good failure away from just imploding. Maybe even taking violence on each other.”
“So you think one final strike could demoralize them to the point of destruction, even if we don’t kill them.”
