“Sure.” He heads towards the door. “Are we taking Brambles?”
“There is no we, kid,” I reply. “And yes, I’m taking Brambles. I always do.”
As we head to the car, Oscar says, “I know where you might find him. I heard that he and some of his gang hang out at Ted and Jerry’s Casino and Pool Hall.”
Makes sense. Ted and Jerry’s Casino is a seedy little place in a rough area of Reno that caters to lowlifes and men and women with gambling addiction. “Is he even old enough?”
Oscar squints at me. “If bad guys followed the rules, you’d never make any money.”
True that.
As we get into the car, I say to Oscar, “Don’t mention this to your dad. I gotta feeling he’d flip out knowing I took you into a dangerous situation.”
Chapter Twelve
Eight
Joker nods Zero toward a chair, then says to Hangman, “The gang activity in Reno is escalating. The four we got?—”
“What the fuck are you talkin’ about? There are only three.”
“Four,” Coyote says, taking the risk of Hangman using his head as a football. “Always been four. Flying Dragons, 311 Boys, and Savage?—”
Hangman interrupts. “I fuckin’ know that. Who’re the other fuckers?”
Joker looks at Hangman in exasperation. “Tonapah Union. New group. Black boys. They fly under the radar because they’re small time. Still do enough shit to have a presence.”
“Why the fuck haven’t one of the other gangs run them off yet?”
“Don’t know,” Zero says. “But the Brother’s Circle want to meet with you to have a convo.”
“If they got an issue with the gangs,” Hangman snarls to no in particular, “they can fuckin’ well deal with it themselves.”
Joker clears his throat. “They don’t have the numbers and we don’t have the numbers so we gotta do this together.”
Hangman ignores him as he stabs Zero with his eyes. His face is red and his voice is two decibels away from breaking the sound barrier. “Why the fuck use you to deliver the news?”
Zero shrinks back. “The Don says you haven’t returned his call.”
“Pakhan,” Coyote corrects. “Don is Italian.”
Hangman bolts to his feet, reaches past Reaper and punches Coyote in the head. Credit to Coyote that he doesn’t flinch, but he does move himself and his chair a few feet backwards so he’s out of Hangman’s reach.
“I don’t give a fuck what the fuck anyone is called. The motherfucking prick who thinks he’s king of shit answers to me.” He points a finger at Zero and snarls, “And that’s the fuckin’ message you give next time they decide to have a convo with you.”
Joker says to Hangman, “We gotta have a meet with them. This gang shit is real and if we don’t put it down, we’ll lose control of Reno.” Joker is the only one of us who can interrupt a tirade by Hangman and still stand after he’s done. “I’ll call and set up something.”
As Joker steps out of the room, Hangman yells after him, “Fuckin’ today! Those cocksuckers don’t get to tell us where and when. And tell them I’m gonna cut Makarov’s nose off for fucking with one of ours.”
Hangman takes a few breaths before he says, “We’re gonna need muscle.” He glances around the room. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he growls as he looks from Rocky to Trigger to Ryder and then over to Zero. “What a fuckin’ useless group of cunts you are.” He stabs a finger at Reaper. “You.”
Reaper shakes his head. “Short a bouncer at Hook’s. Gotta step in.”
Hangman rolls his eyes. “Motherfucker.” He points at King. “Is it your day for yoga class or are you free to do your fuckin’ job?”
King smirks. He’s one of the originals and that’s Hangman’s version of treating him with respect. “Yoga class is tomorrow.”
“What about you other pussies?”
