Not a surprise that we get the white boys and the Russians get the black ones. I wouldn’t say that Hell’s Jury is multicultural, but at the same time, we don’t operate based on race. Anyone give us a problem, we make them go away. Don’t matter where the fuck they came from.
The Brother’s Circle, on the other hand, don’t deal with anyone unless they’re Caucasian and preferably Russian. Except for street grunts - prostitution, selling drugs and other shit.
“Done,” Hangman snaps as he stands. “Check back in a week.”
The meeting’s over as he turns and heads to the lobby. Kozlov follows Hangman. Because I’m closest to the door, I lead the way.
Henri and Brielle are still sitting on the bench facing each other, playing some sort of game with the leaves of a formerly spiky plant, which is forlornly standing in the corner.
Henri looks up and sees my expression of dismay. “What?” she says. “We got bored.”
This draws Kozlov’s attention. “And who are these beauties?”
Henri huffs and rolls her eyes. “Don’t be such a guy.”
“Henri,” I warn.
Then to Kozlov, I say, “None of your fucking business.”
Hangman reinforces this by pointing at Brielle. “My daughter. Anyone touches her they’ll spend the rest of their life without hands or feet.”
Brielle gasps. “Dad!”
“He’s joking,” Henri innocently says. She returns her attention back to Kozlov. “I’m with him.” She jerks her thumb towards me. “But I’m only borrowed for a couple of days, then it’s back to my mom.”
“Henri,” I warn again. She needs to be schooled on how much information to share with strangers.
“You look familiar,” Kozlov says. “Who’s your mother?”
“None of your business,” I say protectively.
Henri ignores me. With a proud tilt to her chin, she says, “Selkie Fleming. You might’ve heard of her. She’s a bounty hunter.”
Kozlov’s smile grows. “I have heard of her. I know her father. Your grandfather.”
Henri furrows her forehead. “How do you know him?”
“We do business.”
The implications make my spine tingle. I wonder if Selkie is aware that her father is in deep with the Brother’s Circle. “What sort of business?” I growl.
Hangman glares at me. “Don’t matter, asshole.” He turns to Koslov and stabs his finger. “What matters is that you stay away from these kids. They don’t mean nothin’ to you.”
Kozlov raises his hands like he’s surrendering. “I’m not interested in children. Trust me.”
“As far as I can throw you,” Hangman grunts. To the rest of us, he says, “Let’s go.”
But Kozlov stops him. “I need two more minutes of your time, Hangman. You owe me a favor. I’m calling it in.”
Hangman looks pained, but he stays where he is. To us, he says, “Get lost. See ya back at the clubhouse if that’s where you’re going.”
As the elevator doors close, King says to Joker, “What the fuck favor does Hangman owe that scumbag?”
Joker looks pissed at Hangman for leaving him out of the loop. “Fuck if I know.” Then he turns to me, but points at Henri. “Teach this kid not to overshare.”
I nod. It’s on the top of my list.
Chapter Fifteen
