Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 117494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“That’s the prison here?”
“It is, yes.”
Marco glanced my way. “And you’re here to help them through this time?”
He was wading into Red Demon business, not his, and judging by the spark in his eyes, he knew it.
I gave him a blank stare. “We’ve covered this before. That’s our business, not yours. And I say that with no disrespect intended.”
Marco grinned, apparently not offended. “I like you, Ghost.”
He shouldn’t.
I grinned back. “I’m relieved.”
Crow almost choked on his beer before putting it back down. “My apologies.”
The music cranked up, and a couple of Estrada’s men decided to start dancing. A few of our guys joined, along with the sweet butts.
Marco took everything in for a moment before looking around our table again.
None of us were relaxed. We might’ve looked it, but we weren’t. Crow and his SIA were smiling, but I could tell it was so forced that it was painful to see. Marco’s eyes narrowed, and I knew he didn’t miss anything, but then he turned and focused on me. Only me.
His eyes changed, growing more serious. “Could I speak with you alone for a moment?”
He asked me, but his question was directed toward the other two.
Both stood, nodding with the same tight smiles on their faces. Crow went inside, and his SIA joined the dancing in the yard.
“I need to repeat myself. I like you, Ghost. Can I call you by your given name?”
No. “Sure. It’s Shane.”
“Shane.”
Fuck no. Fuck no. Fuck no. The last person who called me that was Kali.
He seemed so honored that he knew my real name now.
“Your bike club has done so much for me. You have helped me tremendously. My organization. I’ve been able to grow my business because of you, and I have enemies. I have many enemies.” His face grew rigid, almost like stone. “But no matter. I still keep growing, and I’m aware that your club is a part of that. I feel it was God’s hand that had me so near when I heard about your president’s attack. And I’ve always respected you. You, you know how to kill. You know how to make the hard choice, to end a life or not. I can see it in you. I have it in me. I don’t wish to speak ill of the sick, but your president, he hesitates at times. I’ve seen it. I wanted to relay that if anything does happen to your president, and if you should step up to take your place as the national president, you have my support. I’m unaware if that’s needed in a situation like that, but I wanted to let you know.”
Marco Estrada once hung a family of eighteen from a bridge, all of their heads decapitated—a man, his wife, and their sixteen children. The youngest was eight months old.
This man did that. The one who sat next to me, saying he respected me.
And the reason they’d all been hung and decapitated? Because one of their daughters handed a phone to Marco’s sister. That was it. A phone was passed, and the entire family was murdered.
He was speaking nice and acting nice, but this man was evil.
I smiled at him and held up my beer. “That means a lot, Señor Estrada.”
His smile warmed, and I could see him relax.
He had no worries. None. If he was behind Max’s hit, he wasn’t worried about it.
“I am looking forward to many more meals with you. This one has been the most fun so far. I thank you, Señor Shane.”
I wanted to pull my gun out, press the barrel against his forehead, and pull the trigger. I smiled instead. “And you as well, Señor.”
They partied the rest of the night, until his men could barely stand. I handed out orders. A few of our men needed to start acting wasted, or the cartel would know.
Marco and his men didn’t leave, not until the early morning. The sun had started to peek over the horizon when they decided it was time to go.
Marco had a great time. He’d professed it to me many times throughout the night.
And once they’d finally gone, Crow looked at me, with all of our men around us. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he said.
I texted Heckler.
Me: If it’s him, he’s the most smug asshole that exists.
Heckler: We got a lead. Following it up tomorrow.
24
KALI
A bunch of bikes had returned thirty minutes ago, early in the morning, with their riders all smiles. No Shane, but the guys rolled up, parked, and a few grabbed the women up in hugs. There were whoops, wolf whistles, and cheers, but I still sensed an underlying tension.
They’d started a bonfire, and now they were partying.
Guys were drinking, and some women hung over them. In some ways, it just looked like a typical family party. Music started, and I could smell weed.