After Deuce left, I showered and tried to clear my head and concentrate on the opening tonight and not Deuce’s words promising a possible future. Past experience told me not to get my hopes up, but he seemed so sincere and almost angry when I tried to let him off the hook and give him an out.
My phone vibrates on the bathroom counter. I swipe at the message and freeze in place.
Viper: I know you have what I want.
He’s bluffing, just trying to play mind games with me.
Sammie: I told you I haven’t found anything.
I have to stay strong.
Viper: The Kings have torn that whole place apart. You must’ve found it, so don’t fuckin’ lie to me.
Sammie: Well, you’re wrong.
My heart speeds up, and I’m glad we’re texting.
Viper: Even if I say, if you don’t give me that flash drive, I’ll burn the place to the ground?
Sammie: Then neither one of us will get it.
Viper: Don’t play with me, bitch. I want that flash drive, or Deuce and the rest of the Kings are dead along with that shit bar. Then I’ll make sure your old man suffers long and hard.
I don’t doubt Viper would do it all. Not for one minute. Could I really take a chance with my father’s life, or the Kings’ lives, or the success of the bar?
Sammie: You know I can’t come to you.
Viper: Tonight’s the big grand opening, right?
Sammie: Yes.
Viper: Then it should be easy for you to sneak out. Ten o’clock. Behind the dumpsters. You hand that flash drive over to the prospect, and I’ll leave the Kings alone.
Sammie: And my father?
Viper: Yeah, him too.
The little bubbles disappear, and my breathing slows as I reread the texts. Logically, I know he has no way of knowing I have the flash drive, but it doesn’t matter because Viper is doing what he does best. Spreading fear and intimidation.
If giving him what he wants saves the Kings and my father, it’s worth it. I contemplate telling Deuce about Viper’s texts, but what would that accomplish? Nothing but more violence.I’d hand over the flash drive to the prospect, and Viper would go back to Philly. Deuce would never know because I refuse to take any deadly chances. Not even in the gambling state of New Jersey.
The money is another issue. Having Deuce in my room every night with the garbage bag directly under my bed fills me with guilt. Irrational probably, but the way he left this morning made me believe he wanted something lasting. Me telling him about the money would prove I trusted him. After all, he said in the very beginning, the money is mine no matter who found it.
By the time I’m dressed, my mind is made up. I’ll tell Deuce about the money now and get it out of the way before all the commotion of tonight’s opening. By tomorrow, Viper would have his precious flash drive, and Deuce and I could figure out our future with five hundred thousand dollars.
I head to the door and stop. My back stiffens at the sound of yelling.
I crack the door and peek around the doorframe. Deuce and Ace facing off in the hall. Both alpha males, equal size, pissed off. Not good.
“I know that look,” Ace sneers. “Even you think something’s off with that bitch.”
“I thought I told you not to call her that.” Deuce thumps Ace on the shoulder, and he rears back.
“You wanna throw down over a bitch?” Ace opens his arms wide, daring Deuce. “This chick is doin’ a number on you, and she adds too many problems we don’t need.”
“I get it, she’s a huge complication,” Deuce agrees.
I grip the doorframe.
