I walked over to my men. They were mine now. Hopefully not for long. I wasn’t cut out to be president. My role as enforcer was exactly where I wanted to be. But I knew King trusted me.
He didn’t know that most of the men in Arkansas could be trusted, but there were a few that needed to be weeded out.
“Krypto and Venom.”
Both enforcers turned to me. “There is a kiln out back. We aren’t dragging these bastards home. You two, grab Steele. Ambush and Warden, grab Lynch, and Baltimore and Crater, grab Demise.”
“What do you want me to do, Prez?”
I looked at Zombie, ready to bust his ass for calling me that. Until I realized he’d heard King promote me. The president patch was in the pocket of my cut where it would stay until we went home. Then, once the trash was taken out, we’d vote, and I’d hand it over to the new president. I wasn’t taking the time to sew it on my cut when I knew it wasn’t staying there.
“Help out anywhere you can.”
I walked over to Banshee and put my hand on his shoulder. He turned, and before I could say a word, he clocked me in the face.
“You son of a bitch!” he hissed as I lay on the floor at his feet. A dog I hadn’t noticed before stood over me growling and baring its teeth.
“DIESEL, NO!” Jack rushed over and kneeled on the floor in front of the dog. He looked up at Banshee. “Call him off!”
“No,” Banshee clipped as he glared at me. I didn’t know what the fuck I had done to piss the man off, but he needed to know I had nothing to do with what Steele had done.
“Call him off, or I’ll call Aspen.”
“Call her. I’m not calling him off. He can rip the fucker’s balls off first.”
I didn’t dare move. When Jack kneeled in front of the dog, it had pulled its teeth back, but it was still growling, and its hair was still standing up.
Jack pulled out his phone and put it on speaker.
“Jack?” a woman’s frantic voice answered. “Is Banshee okay?”
“That asshole is fine, but I need you to call Diesel off.”
“He’ll listen to Banshee,” she said, confusion clear in her voice.
“Yeah, well, Banshee won’t fucking listen to me.”
The woman sighed. “I’ll be right there.”
“No, Aspen. I have you on speaker.”
Jack kept his eyes on the dog. One hand held his phone; the other was on the dog’s head.
“Diesel, down.” The woman’s voice was soft, but firm. The dog immediately sat and looked up at Banshee. “Banshee?” she called out. “Baby, are you okay?”
My eyebrow raised as I listened to the woman’s voice. It had the same effect on Banshee as it had on the dog.
“Come upstairs, baby.”
Banshee’s jaw flexed as the woman spoke. He took the phone from Jack and pushed the button, killing the speaker. He lifted the phone to his ear and said, “I’ll be up soon. There’s a mess to clean up here, and I need to make sure it’s done right.”
Jack held out a hand when he stood, and I eyed him before looking at the dog. “Diesel, friend,” Jack said, and the dog inched forward and laid his head on my stomach.
“What the fuck?” I whispered, still afraid to move, worried the dog might actually rip my balls off.
Jack chuckled and held out a hand again. The dog sat up, and I reached out for Jack, letting him help me to my feet. The dog, Diesel, stood, and I flinched.
“He won’t hurt you now. Just pet his head.”
