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AFTER I LEFT Adriana, I took a cruise on my bike to clear both of my heads, and then headed to Griffin’s. I met up with Tank in the parking lot; there were shadows under his eyes and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.
“Hey, man,” I said, shoving my key into the front of my jeans. “You’re looking pretty rough.”
He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Even after I called you?”
He opened the door to the bar and we went inside. “Fuck no. I heard Krystal’s phone go off right after we hung up, and when I read the text message sent to her, I was too jacked up to sleep.”
“Message? What message?”
“Some douchebag named Gary sent her a message. It said, ‘Thanks for everything’.”
“Oh yeah? Did you ask her about it?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I said, thinking the message could have meant anything.
“I was too pissed off. I mean, what kind of asshole sends a girl a message at four in the morning? Like he can’t get her out of his mind.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I needed time to think.”
“Could be nothing,” I thought, knowing that it could also be a lot. After getting screwed over by Brandy, I wasn’t sure what to believe myself. “She ever mention a guy named Gary?”
“No. Not at all.”
“You know you gotta ask her.”
“I know.” He sighed. “I don’t know. I’m almost tempted to just say ‘fuck it’ and find some new pussy. I don’t like this feeling jealous kind of shit. Too many girls willing to keep me satisfied, you know? Without the baggage or the worries.”
“I feel you, brother. I wish I’d have never met Brandy. She was bad news. ”
Two of the club whores walked by us as we sauntered over to the bar.
“Hey, Raptor, looking good,” said Cheeks, who I’d banged a couple of times. “You need some company later, let me know.”
“Will do,” I said, staring at her ass as she walked away. I had to admit – it was as nice as fuck, hence her nickname, but it didn’t compare to Adriana’s. Not from what I’d seen in those tight jeans of hers or felt under my fingertips. I imagined her wearing a G-string and my dick perked up again.
“Fuck,” I muttered, adjusting myself.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Tank tapped his fingers on the bar impatiently. “You know, I should just go and fuck the shit out of the new chick,” he said, eyeing the curvy blonde on stage with the big plastic tits. She was in her thirties and not much to look at above the neck, but even I had to admit, she knew how to work the poles. She’d shown me just how well the week before. “Take my mind off of all the shit for a while.”
“Just don’t be late for the meeting, or your old man will have your balls,” I said as the bartender, Misty, set two icy-cold beers in front of us.
“No shit. Last time I was late, I thought he was going to have a fucking heart-attack, he was so pissed off. Wasn’t even my fault that I got a flat tire.”
“That’s because it was flat the night before, and he knew it,” I reminded him and then winked at Misty. “Thanks, darlin’”
Misty tossed her jet black hair over her shoulder and smiled. “Anytime, Raptor. Just so you know, the kitchen is open. You boys want me to put in an order for you?”
Tank’s lip curled up. “I’ll take an order of you, lovely lady.”
Misty laughed. “Really? And what about your pretty little blond, Krystal?”
“What about her?” he asked, reaching over the bar to grab a toothpick. “You thinking about a threesome?”
She giggled. “You are so bad.”
“Baby, you have no idea.”
Still smiling, she turned to me. “So, you hungry or what, Raptor?”
“I’ve already eaten,” I said, taking a swig of beer.
“To be honest, I haven’t eaten yet,” said Tank, wiggling his eyebrows. “And what I’m craving isn’t on the menu.”
She leaned forward on the bar, her tits bulging out of her halter top. “And what is it you’re craving?” she asked seductively.
“Whatever you’re serving,” he said, staring at her chest.
Misty lowered her voice. “What if I’m willing to serve you both? At once.”
Tank chuckled and looked at me. “You game? I’ll take the front and you can have the back.”
“No thanks. She’s all yours.”
“You sure?” pouted Misty, grabbing my hand. She put it on her left tit. “I’ll let you fuck me in the ass.”
Laughing, I removed it. “Tank, you’ve got your hands full.”
He took a swig of his beer. “Does that offer stand for me, too?”
She winked at him. “Honey, I’ve had you inside of me and I know what you’re made of. I don’t need any trips to the E.R.”
Slammer walked out of the back room and scowled. “Put your dick back into your pants, Tank, and meet me in my office. We need to talk. You too, Raptor.”
Tank straightened up. “Can’t it wait?”
“Nope. Misty, can you put an order in for a burger and onion rings?”
“Sure thing, Slammer,” she said, hurrying toward the kitchen.
He stopped next to us. “You two should stay away from Misty,” said Slammer in a low voice. “Girl’s crazy. She even fucked that asshole, Breaker, last night.”
Tank’s eyes narrowed. “No shit? What the fuck?”
“She told me she only did it to see if she could get some information. Like she’s some kind of secret agent on a mission.” He pointed to his head. “I admire her loyalty to the club, but the girl’s not all fucking there.”
“He could have messed her up pretty badly,” I answered.
“She probably wouldn’t care. In fact, she likes it rough,” said Tank, smiling grimly. “Asked me to choke her once.”
Slammer grunted. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
“Did you?” I asked, as Tank leaned against the bar again and watched the stage.
He shook his head. “Honestly, I tried and then stopped when she kept begging me to do it harder. I just felt too weird about it. I like rough sex as much as the next guy, but the choking thing, that’s fucked up.”
“She’s one loony bitch. You want your dick waxed, stick with Bunny, Shy, or Cheeks. They won’t kill you in your sleep,” said Slammer as Misty walked back out of the kitchen.
“The order is in. You want me to bring it back to your office when it’s done?”
Slammer looked around the bar. It was dead. “That or send Blue back with it. I know he’s here somewhere.”
“He took a magazine into the bathroom,” said Misty, nodding toward the restrooms. “He’s been in there for a while.”
Slammer scowled. “Fuck. Okay, you bring me the food,” he said, walking back toward his office.
“You want to meet up later?” Misty asked Tank, as we were preparing to follow him.
“No. Gonna head out to the club after this. We’ve got church at three.”
“I know. Text me later tonight if you change your mind.” She looked at me and winked. “Either of you. I’m game for whatever you want.”
Disturbed by the fact that she’d screwed Breaker, I grabbed my beer and followed Tank into Slammer’s office.
“Close the door,” said Slammer, sitting down behind his desk.
Tank did. “What’s up?”
I sat down across from Slammer and noticed he had a file on his desk.
Slammer lit a cigarette and waited until Tank was in the other chair. He leaned back. “Mud still isn’t backing down.”
“I didn’t think he would. Breaker’s his nephew,” said Tank.
“I know, but what’s right is right. Letting Breaker get away with raping my future stepdaughter is a punch in the face. I know he did it. Mud knows he did it. I need vindication.”
“So, you’re absolutely sure it wasn’t one of the other Devil’s Rangers?” asked Tank.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” said Slammer, who was looking every bit of his fifty-seven years. He rubbed the gray stubble on his chin and sighed. “Jessica saw the patches on his cut. It was theirs.”
“She remember anything else?” I asked.
“To be honest, she won’t even talk to me. Just to Frannie. But, the description she gave fits. And we all know what a fucking whack-job Breaker is.”
“This was personal,” said Tank, staring at his beer bottle. “I know it was. He must have known who she was.”
“I agree,” said Slammer. “And I’m not letting that sonofabitch get away with it.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I’ve ordered a hit on him,” he said, opening up the folder. Inside was a picture of Breaker and a sheet of paper with his address and other personal information scribbled across it. “I need you to deliver this to our guy.”
“Why don’t we just do it ourselves and get it over with?” asked Tank.
“That’s what they’re expecting. We do this out in the open, there will be an all-out war. It has to look like something else.”
“So what?” he said, his eyes hardening. “We need to send them a fucking message. All of them.”
“I agree, son. You know I do. But,” he blew out a cloud of smoke. “I’m getting married soon, and I promised Frannie that I wouldn’t land my ass in jail. I don’t want either of you going, either. Not for that bozo.”
“So, who’s going to do it? The Judge?” I asked.
He nodded. “I don’t want anyone else to know about it, though. Not even the rest of the crew.”
“Why not let them in on it?” asked Tank. “They’re going to figure out you had something to do with it anyway.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Why?” I asked. Slammer never made any decisions like this without letting the others know about it first. Of course, he didn’t order many hits on people, either. This was only the second one I’d heard of.
“I think one of them is an informant.”
“A cop?” I asked.
He grunted. “No, not that. A stoolpigeon. For Mud.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?” asked Tank.
“Information has been leaked. Information that neither of you even know about.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” asked Tank, looking pissed.
“Mud asked me how to get in touch with Jordan Steele. He shouldn’t even know that we’re connected. That I’ve ever had any business with him.”
“Who is this Jordan Steele?” I asked. I’d never heard of him.
Slammer looked me straight in the eye. “Your brother. The Judge.”