Page 202 of Devil’s Disciples

Incapable of seeing in the safe, I tried to see over Tito’s shoulder. “What’s in there? Is it all there?”

“There’s stacks of ten-thousand-dollar bundles of hundred-dollar bills,” he said.

“How much was on that spreadsheet?” I asked. “From the investment place?”

“Her account had two million, three hundred sixty thousand, and change.”

I edged Goose out of the way and peered over Tito’s shoulder and into the safe. Stacks and stacks of hundred-dollars bills lined the interior of the large safe.

“Jesus.” My eyes bulged at the sight. “How much does he have in there?”

“Hard saying,” Tito responded.

After piling the ten-thousand-dollar bundles into stacks of ten, we counted the hundred-thousand-dollar bundles. Thirty-one bundles equated to three-point-one million dollars, or roughly six hundred and forty thousand more than Marvin had taken from Kimberly.

“You fellas load up the money and head out,” I said. “I’ll get this mess cleaned up with Marv.”

“Nobody’s going anywhere unless everyone goes,” Baker said from behind me. He nodded toward the open safe. “How much was in there?”

“Three-point-one mil,” Tito said. “Roughly seven-hundred-forty more than was taken.”

“My take of the extra cash goes to the girl,” Reno said.

“Ditto,” Ghost said.

“Give her mine, too,” Goose said.

“Mine, too,” Tito chimed.

“We follow the rules,” Baker said. “Club takes the club’s cut. She can have what’s left. It’ll be more than she had in the beginning.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “The rules are the rules.”

Within fifteen minutes, Reno and I worked out the details regarding Marvin’s future. The process went much easier than expected, allowing us to reach an agreement that he’d never show his face anywhere near me, the club, or Kimberly again.

If he did, his life would promptly cease to exist.

It may have been the ten pounds of plastic explosives that Reno rigged to the inside of the safe – before we welded it shut – that convinced Marv to agree so promptly.

Personally, I’d always believe it was my charm that coerced him. Either that, or my groovy new haircut.

79

Kimberly

The road was narrow, and not at all what I’d become accustomed to. The motorcycle dodged right and left unexpectedly, yanking the handlebars from side to side without warning. Every few feet, the tire would drop off into a pot-hole, causing me to fly out of the seat.

It was, however, much better than riding in a cage.

The trip would have taken three solid days in a car. On the bike, it took two. My willingness to ride was equal to Cash’s, and we’d ridden almost seven hundred miles a day to get there. Our early morning “crack of dawn” start assured us we’d arrive before nightfall, and we were doing just that.

Barely.

As the sun was setting, we pulled up the long, narrow drive. At the low speed we were traveling, the low rumble from the exhaust gave little warning of our arrival.

“You didn’t tell her anything?” I asked. “Seriously?”

“Not a word. It’s how I roll.”