Chapter Seventeen
DEUCE
Later that night, Ace and the rest of the Kings enter the office where I first saw Sammie hammering the shit out of the safe. In time, it will become the home of our weekly church meeting, but right now the table is made out of two saw horses with a slab of plywood on top. The chairs are whatever we could salvage. It’s a decent size room, but someday, I want a polished wood table with the Kings insignia etched in the middle like the one we had five years ago.
We settle in; Ace fires up a joint, drags deep and passes it to me. I inhale the sweet smoke and pass it back to him as Fist fills the shot glasses circled around a bottle of Jack. He pushes one toward each of us, and I stand.
“Here’s to hard work and getting shit done.”
“Fuck yeah” echoes through the room. I down my shot, pour myself another, then ease into my chair. I’m mostly healed, but after a day of heavy lifting and swinging a hammer, my ribs ache.
I turn to Scratch. “How are our finances looking?”
He flips open his laptop. “Not bad, especially with the contribution from the Russians.”
Scratch talked to his Russian contacts up on the boards, and they were willing to kick in for protection in return. Seems Viper and the Dogs are extorting them and threatening their businesses.
“When do you see this place opening for business?” I shoot a look to Shady and Fist, who’ve worked construction since high school. I’ve made them the foremen on the job since they know the most about the building out process.
“I’d say we could do a soft opening in another two and a half, three weeks.” Ace passes me the weed. “The back hall needs another coat of paint, and we’re waiting on the delivery of the bar stools and the rest of the glassware.”
“I got the liquor suppliers all set for delivery,” Ace adds. “They just need a check, and we’re good to go.”
I look around the room. “Can’t believe it, but it looks like shit is finally coming together.”
With the money I had stashed and my brothers all donating to the cause, we are finally at the finish line.
“Any rumblings from the Dogs?” Scratch asks.
“Nothing.” Which amps me up. Viper isn’t one to give up easy.
“I’ve done some asking around, and nobody’s seen any of the Dogs in AC, or anywhere outside Philly.” Scratch flicks his lighter.
“I’d say Viper got the message,” Ace adds, “but he’s too fuckin’ stupid to know when he’s been beat. Maybe he realizes we’re not going anywhere, and we’re not backing down, but we still can’t let stand what he did to you.” Ace waves his hand in my direction.
“I’m not looking for revenge. I’m gonna wait and let Viper exhaust himself thinking of ways to take us down. Trying to figure out what we’re up to. Viper wanted to shut me down,but men like him confuse pain with power. I’m not mad; I’m patient.”
“Maybe too patient.”
I lean into the plywood table. “Soon the Kings will have their insignia etched into the top of a thick wooden table, but for now, we handle our shit and just keep moving forward.”
Five years on the inside taught me, if you keep moving, they can’t see your faults, can’t see where it hurts.
“You can’t be too careful,” Shady says.
“Viper reacts, but we make the decisions. Viper needs to hurt people. We hurt people to end problems.”
“What if he runs?”
“He already made his last move. Men like Viper aren’t smart enough to run.” I nod once. “Especially since he was the one who ambushed me and made all the threats.” I plug a smoke between my lips, and Scratch lights me up.
“We just keep doin’ everything on the down-low, and don’t let up on the security at night,” Ace adds.
I nod at Ace’s words. Viper is a devious fucker. Like a snake who strikes when you least expect it.
“Who’s got the first shift tonight?” I ask.
“Me.” Shady throws Ace the fisheye. “And don’t be late to relieve me later.”
