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“There’s only five at the bar, Vortex.”
“And Breaker, Griller, Saddle, Bull. They won’t let him come without them tagging along. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks that Pattie comes along with her shotgun.” I just know that she won’t be left out of any club shit these days. Her one day of being a body double for Jamie changed her, and I can’t say if it was for the best or not. She’s been freaking bloodthirsty ever since she wasted Fury’s father, that is a fact.
“I’ll take that bet. Pres wouldn’t bring her on something like this.” Cannon gives me a grin, but he doesn’t look as confident as he sounds.
Rolling down the lake road, we see some amazing properties. For Chris to have one of them tells its own story. He hasn’t achieved this by any legal means through his business. He must be deep in the shit with these people if they are okay with walking into his office and taking him in front of a witness.
The brothers form an orderly line as we pass where they’re waiting. Approaching the entrance to the estate, we see a guy on a radio. He’s the guy from the van that Pres let go after questioning him. He was supposed to leave town as part of the deal to let him live.
Watching Pres through the rear windshield, I see him point a finger at the guy, followed by the loud report of a shotgun. “That’s a hundred bucks you owe me,” I smirk at Cannon.
Arriving at the front of the house, we see three SUVs and Chris’s two Mercedes. The SL is between two of the SUVs while the G-wagon is to one side near a large garage.
Two men are at the house entrance, both armed with pistols though in a relaxed position, not pointed at us, yet. Cannon and I step from the vehicle and join the others. Before any of us can step towards the house, a small man in a dark suit walks out.
“Gentlemen, we have never been introduced. I am Brandon Smiles. I oversee the investments for the Cottonwood Glades Land Development Company. You are the Bitter Slayers Motorcycle Club, and a bit of a fly in the ointment, I must say. Perhaps a wrench in the works applies more aptly in your case? You should think about your position carefully if I were you.” Four red dots appear on Pres’ cut. He merely brushes at them with the backs of his fingers as if they were nothing more than bugs. Brandon continues, “There has been a considerable amount of investment in this venture, too much for us to merely walk away. Not to mention the timescale we are working to. We do not have to resort to violence between us, as long as you understand that what is happening here will happen, despite your best efforts or best intentions.” Two more men leave the house and walk directly to one of the SUVs, holding a rear door open. “I see my associates have concluded their business with the unfortunate realtor. He really should be more careful when walking on the stairs of such a beautiful home. I trust he will heal well, given time. Good day, President Whack. I trust we never have to meet again.”
He gives a dismissive gesture with his hand and walks to the SUV. One of the two men gets in beside him while the other takes the driver's seat. The two men from the house step into a vehicle each, and the trio move away along the driveway before stopping and retrieving four men who emerge from the landscape carrying rifles.
Bull and Saddle are already in the house by this time and shortly return carrying a bloody Chris between them. He is barely conscious and just keeps repeating, “I fell down the stairs.”
Putting him into the passenger seat of his Mercedes SL, which I drive, I ring Candi and tell her to expect us shortly and that she will need to get Chris to the hospital. It would raise far too many questions if we were to take him to the emergency room. Questions that we don’t want to try to answer or evade.
*~* Allegra *~*
Having cooked a typical Italian pasta dish for supper, one that I’m sure Marisela is not enjoying as hers has more salt than either mine or Silas’, we sit silently at the table enjoying a coffee. Silas has given Marisela a list of domestic chores that she is required to do, as well as some ranch chores. While reading her list, given to her on paper so she cannot say she didn’t know all of her duties, she looks like she has been sucking on a Sicilian lemon. She clearly does not think she should have to do anything while she is here to help her father with the ranch.
She was quick to ask when she and Silas could go into town and buy her some clothes, as she had to leave everything behind to escape her terrible husband. Silas gave her the keys to his old farm truck and told her she could go anytime it suited her. When she tried to press him for cash to spend, he told her she could call at the bank and withdraw some from her own account.
The silence is broken when Chips walks in through the back door singing and whistling a song I have never heard before.
“Always look on the bright side of life,” followed by some sort of whistled tune.
As neither Silas nor I had mentioned anyone else being here, she is shocked to say the least. Chips helps himself to a plate of food and a coffee, throws himself into a chair and begins eating. Marisela appears to be getting over this sudden shock when Ghost walks in through the front door and strolls into the kitchen. He follows Chip's lead with the food and coffee, but no singing.
“You never said you were employing people father,” she snaps at Silas.
“They work for room and board, same as you’re doing. I told you there were no free rides on this ranch anymore,” Silas replies quietly and calmly, which angers her all the more.
“Dare I ask what she does for room and board,” she snaps again, looking at me this time.
“I cook, clean, and work with the horses. If you suggest anything else, I will happily show you the spot I have in mind for the burial site we discussed earlier.” I smile sweetly at her, and Chips almost chokes on his pasta.
“That sounds like something you should share with the rest of us,” he states, looking from me to Marisela and back again.
“Oh, that’s not necessary. Marisela understands me well enough in our brief acquaintance, don’t you?” I give her a hard stare, which makes her swallow hard and nod briefly before she bolts from the table.
“I’m going to my room,” she whines as she dashes away.
“Don’t forget to do the dishes, Marisela. You are the kitchen help, I’m the cook. Remember your place.” She stumbles and almost falls as my comment hits home.
“It’s odd, but I remember her being prettier when…Ow!” Chips grabs for his leg and gives Ghost a stern look.
“Manners, Chips. You're at her father’s table remember?” Ghost says this, but gives a slight nod in my direction.
“Do not worry on my part, Ghost. That conversation has already been had, and Marisela is fully aware of where she now stands in terms of any relationship between Vortex and her. Isn’t that so, Silas?”
“I think she fully understands where she will find herself if she tries anything in that respect. You made it perfectly clear that she had her chance, and that you are the new keeper of anything that is Vortex-related.”
