“I’m not risking you walkin’ into someth—”
“What could possibly happen to me at an elementary school?”
“School shootin’,” I said without thinking.
“Stoney,” she hissed, rolling her eyes, then focusing back on her husband. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’m comin’ with you,” he said.
“You’re scarier than Stoney,” she countered. “I’ll be good.”
“Or, I can sit in the car while you go in,” he said.
She sighed, stroking his face. “Can you take the time to do that?”
“Abso-fuckin-lutely.”
“That’d be great, Wyatt,” I said. “I’d appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
My phone buzzed, so I excused myself and headed to my room. “Stoney.”
“Hey, brother, it’s Rabbit.”
“Hey. Did you find out anything?”
“Not sure.”
“Shit,” I hissed.
“You said this chick OD’d, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So I started to go down the rabbit hole, no pun intended, of who’s runnin’ the heroin trade in Colorado. It’s the Mexicans. Specifically, Los Psychos.”
“Los Psychos don’t really have a presence here.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Rabbit countered. “They do, but it’s on the DL. You’ve always had a bigger issue with the Apex Predators, but word on the dark web is that El Cacto is making a play for the Predators’ drug business.”
“The Predators’ don’t deal in heroin, specifically fentanyl-laced heron. Maybe a little coke, but they stay away from heroin and the rest of that shit. They want pot and hookers.”
“Yeah, well, so does Los Psychos, apparently. They’ve got a peace treaty with the Burning Saints out of Portland, which extends to the Dogs, sort of. But they’re buyin’ up property all over Colorado Springs, and messin’ with the Predators’ territory. Basically, they’re hopin’ for a turf war.”
“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ,” I growled.
The Apex Predators had been messin’ with our grow business, causing all manner of issues from hittin’ our delivery vans, to trying to burn down our warehouses. If we had to deal with the Mexicans as well, we were fucked.
“If your girl was into Los Psychos for drug money, this might be bigger than we realize. They run girls, Stoney. Girls who aren’t of legal age. Girls who haven’t chosen the life, and there’s rumor they’re lookin’ for young boys.”
“Fuck.” I rubbed my forehead. “There’s no evidence Maria was involved with Los Psychos, but I can’t imagine anyone else goin’ after her kid.”
“I’ve got my ear to the ground. I sent that picture of the kid to a few of my contacts down there. They’re gonna do more checkin’.”
“Appreciate that, brother,” I said.
“I’ll let you know what I find.”
