Chapter Thirteen
SAMMI
“Pretty much what I’m sure you already suspect.”
“Coke?”
“Coke, fentanyl, pills, anything that could fit into designer sunglasses cases.”
“Sunglasses cases?”
“My father had this huge inventory of knock-off sunglasses that he couldn’t unload, so Viper found a new use for them. After that, it was knock-off Gucci and Louis Vuitton bags. Then a business was born. We strategically placed the product in the bags and sunglasses cases, then moved the shit up and down the East Coast.”
“We? Please tell me you weren’t swallowing this shit or shoving it up your pussy.”
I laugh at the look on his face. “I wasn’t sticking it up my ass either.”
“So, you weren’t an actual mule.”
“More like transportation coordinator.”
“Explain.”
When my father found out I was hanging out with Bullet, he was thrilled.” I bark out a harsh laugh. “Most fathers would’vebeen horrified their daughter was hanging with an outlaw biker with a record, but not dear old Dad.”
“Go on,” Deuce prods.
“From there, things went from bad to worse.” I shift on the couch. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but New Jersey is one of the largest entry points for drugs on the East Coast because of its major interstate highways and entry points. Namely, Port Newark and Newark Airport.”
He nods. “I did know that; I’m just surprised you do.”
“I’m sure you can put the rest of the story together, but I’ll sum it up for you. The Rabid Dogs used my father’s trucks to transport drugs throughout the East Coast as far south as Georgia and as far north as Boston.”
Deuce furrows his brow. “And you were one of the drivers?”
“Give the man a prize.”
“Shit, kinda fucked up that your old man was behind it and letting his only daughter transport it.”
“Ya think?” I roll my eyes. “But you haven’t heard the best part.”
“There’s more?”
“Ohhhh, way the fuck more.” I draw in a breath and continue. “Thinking back, it was a genius plan. Who would stop or suspect a young woman truck driver of transporting and delivering drugs, right?”
“It is a sweet setup,” Deuce admits.
“Until Bullet wanted to come with me on a trip. I knew it was a bad idea. He was getting deeper and deeper into cocaine, which only made his erratic temper more erratic. I told my father and Viper it was a bad idea, but do you think they listened to a woman? Fuck no.” I flail my arms around. “Oh, and did I forget to mention Bullet shoved coke up his nose almost the entire trip? So, at a routine stop at a weigh station in Maryland, he decides to get mouthy. He was totally spun, and of course thecops noticed since they’re always on the lookout for jacked-up truckers.”
“I don’t think I wanna know the rest.”
“It’s the best part.” I smirk. “I won’t go into all the gory details, but I basically took the fall since I was driving the truck transporting illegal substances over the state line. The good news—I didn’t have any priors. The bad news, my dad got sent back to Rikers because he owned the company and had a long—very long—rap sheet. Bullet got some bullshit community service, and I got to spend eight months in EMCF: Edna Mahan Correctional Facility.”
“Fuck!”
I keep the ankle monitor and the fact that I’m tagged like an animal to myself. I’ve already exposed more than I intended, and having to wear the damn thing day and night is embarrassing enough. It took me two weeks before I even showed Evie.
“Enough about me. Since prison is another thing we have in common, why don’t you tell me your experience?”
