“Get her on the phone. Get her in here. Get it done. Immediately!” Mark spat his rapid-fire orders.
“Right,” the guy behind the desk squeaked, before grabbing his cell phone. It shot out of his hand, and he wildly grappled with it a moment before finally securing it. His finger shook as he punched out the numbers and eventually placed the phone to his ear.
“I want to be here when she’s fired. Make it happen,” Mark pep talked.
“Cry–Crystal? Crystal, it’s Jay. I need you to get to my office imme– Hello?” The beep of an answering machine could be heard from across the room.
Apparently, Crystal didn’t answer on her days off.
Smart girl, I inwardly saluted her. I didn’t know her well, as I’d told Anthony the other night, but I could tell she had it tough. I didn’t plan on getting her fired, this wasn’t something we discussed or voted on. The club didn’t know about any of this shit.
What the fuck was Mark doing?
Chapter Nineteen
Pumpkin Head
Anthony
If I was smart, I would have helped myself to some of Mak’s powder. I knew where he kept it stashed, he always left it at the clubhouse, so he didn’t ever risk getting caught with it at home with his family.
Instead, I nursed a bottle of whiskey in the conference room until I eventually laid my head down.
I knew better than to let them catch me snoozing, but there was only so long a person could stare at four walls or the two assholes they left to babysit me. My brother and Oak were both currently enlisted, and sometimes, I enjoyed hearing their stories and inside jokes.
Today wasn’t that day.
Even my dreams were haunted by that girl. She had a way of flashing a half-smile, and catching it slightly before lettingit fully bloom. It made her seem shy, which was hilarious, all things considered.
She was standing in front of me, doing just that, in my dream. When that smile took hold of her perfect features, I was snapped back to consciousness with what felt like a python around my neck. My lungs flailed, my body desperate for air that I just couldn’t manage to draw.
Before I could get my eyes opened and focused, something rocked me.
Pain exploded across my face with a vicious bone-on-bone pop. I saw spots and my teeth violently clicked. My jaw caught and on top of all that hell, I remember thinking it was dislocated, but then something struck me on the right cheek, and it popped back in so loud and hard I probably would have cried out if I had any ability to make a sound beyond the grunting, slight huffs I was managing around Vick’s meaty arm.
I couldn’t see shit, but I knew there were only two motherfuckers with arms that broad, and Oak didn’t have the stomach for this kind of thing. Military warring, and enforcing codes on those you loved were two different things in his world.
My efforts to wrestle free were met with rib shots that left no doubt.
That was Big Vick breaking ribs with a half-hearted punch.
I saw stars again and it wasn’t even my damn head that got hit.
“You know, them Chicago cocksuckers were onto something. I like this…. What did they say the street fucks called it?” Mark’s venomous voice bit through the fog, alerting me to his presence in front of me.
“Pumpkinhead?” Makaveli didn’t sound so sure, “You’re not doing it right, they said you’re supposed to hold their arms out like Jesus on the–”
“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll correct and perfect my technique on your dumb ass,” Mark barked at his son.
My left eye was already swelling, but the room slowly came into focus. Vick’s arm loosened from my neck, his other fist taking hold of my hair and hefting my neck back at an odd angle.
“Where the fuck were you?” Mark asked, before catching my cheek with a sharp little slap.
I darted my chin back and Vick jerked up, like he meant to rip my head off my body.
“Say it.” Mark smiled, all but daring me.
I was still coughing so hard my eyes were profusely watering.
