“Are you sure?” I ask, literally shaking in my wedges.
“Yes.”
My shopping is done a few minutes later, and we make our way to the counter. Thank goodness the scary carrot top is gone. Tulip ducks her head at our approach, but not before I notice her trembling lips and glossy eyes.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she mumbles despondently before disappearing through a side door.
Meela stomps behind the counter. “I wish they would fuck already.”
“Why doesn’t she like him?”Besides the fact that he’s a big, scary outlaw biker.
“Because our father was a God, and one day he got killed,” she replies, quickly scanning my meager provisions. “We weren’t told the specifics, but it had something to do with the club.”
“I’m so sorry.” My parents aren’t perfect, but I can’t imagine losing one of them.
Meela shrugs. “It was a long time ago. I’m just glad we had Zeus to look out for us.”
“Is he a relative?”
“No. He’s in charge of the Gods,” she says, gesturing around the store. “Tulip wouldn’t have any of this if it wasn’t for him. He gave us seventy-five grand apiece. I can’t touch mine until I’m eighteen, though.”
That was very noble for a criminal.“Where’s your mom?”
“She moved to boring-as-fuck Maine with her boyfriend about two and a half years ago. I only visit when she guilt-trips me.”
I laugh. “Yeah, Maine doesn’t seem like it’d be your speed.” I grab three Blow Pops out of the plastic bin on the counter and slide them over to her. “These too.” I pause, then finally ask the question I’ve been holding back. “What’s the deal with Snake and Leah?”
“It’s complicated,” Meela replies, leaving it at that. “Your total is twenty-eight dollars and seventy-seven cents.”
I don’t press for more details. Maybe in time, Leah will tell me herself. I pay and collect my bags, then go on my way.
It’s been an eventful day and that’s putting it mildly. I’m actually looking forward to the damn basement.
“Where the fuck are they?” Draco growls, kicking the steel wall.
We lie in wait behind the warehouse, tension hanging heavy in the air. It’s one of two locations used to store weapons and product. The area is secluded and surrounded by an electric fence, but as a precaution, prospects stand guard around the clock.
Those assholes should’ve been here fifteen minutes ago. Snake found more incriminating shit on Brick’s and Buffalo’s cell phones. The fuckers planned to meet the Disciples here at nine. The plan was to sell them the merch at half price, then frame the Latin Maniacs for the theft. They’re in attendance tonight, lingering at a distance, whispering among themselves. Tension between the brotherhood and the gang is at an all-time high.
Zeus invited them to participate in the pending massacre, aiming to soothe hostilities. Enemies at our front and enemies at our fucking back. I have a gut feeling that some slimy shit is about to go down. My instincts are never wrong.
Caesar’s beady, hate-filled gaze continuously seeks me out, knowing I led the assassination of his men. If he even farts in my direction, it’s a done deal. I’m wilding the fuck out.
Snake leans on the steel wall next to me. “What do you think the holdup is?”
“Don’t know.”
He and I rode the dearly departed’s bikes here and parked out front. The others pulled up, packed into two SUVs that are now stashed in the trees beyond the property line. We wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible.
“Maybe somebody tipped them off,” Jigsaw speculates, absentmindedly stroking his beard. “Keep frosty. We can’t let those bastards catch us with our pants around our ankles.”
True, we actually don’t know how many rats are in our midst. Someone could’ve alerted the Disciples that we’re on to them and led us right to the slaughter, but I’m ready. I never ran from a fight in my life, and I’m not about to start now. Kill or be killed. That’s the code. The motorcycle world is full of posers—loudmouths with no bite. But me? I made peace with death a long time ago. This life doesn’t hand out tomorrows.
Live by the sword, die by the sword. Those words are inked across my shoulder blades.
“We’ll wait another ten minutes,” Zeus orders, his nostrils flaring. “If they don’t show, then we go to their clubhouse. A message will be sent tonight. Blood will have blood.”
“We should leave now,” Draco barks, pacing back and forth. “Go to Spider’s crib and light it up. That’ll send those motherfuckers a message.”
