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“We are Death’s Head,” Victor said. “But you don’t make those decisions, Mal. You’re just a soldier. I’m the fucking king. And I don’t like getting played.”
Becca could see that she’d won Victor over, but she wanted to make sure she sealed the deal. People caught up in a fight can continue fighting, just because that’s what they were used to, so she needed to make sure this ended here and now.
“You’ve lost how many people now, so that this… walking protein shake… can have a war that none of the rest of you want?” she said. “It’s time to end this, Victor. Nobody’s going to win this, because there’s nothing to win.”
Victor nodded. “All right, lady.”
She almost didn’t believe her ears. “Does that mean we have a truce?”
“You took a big chance coming here,” Victor said. “I respect that. But don’t get it twisted. Just because I’m agreeing with you now, that doesn’t make us cool.”
“That goes for us, too,” Griz said. “Any of you that comes into our territory is as good as dead. No questions asked.”
Victor nodded. “Same. But we won’t be the ones to break the truce.”
“So does that mean…” Becca said. “That means we’re done, right?”
“Almost,” Griz said, staring at Mal.
“The fuck are you looking at, Sasquatch?” Mal said to him.
“You,” Griz said.
34
“What is this?” Victor said.
“Yeah, what is this?” Becca whispered to Griz.
“There’s one last thing that needs to be settled before this is over,” Griz said.
“What’s that?” Victor said.
“Him,” Griz said, staring down Mal. “He shot my dad. Our MC president. He doesn’t get to walk away.”
“Ain’t nobody walking away, fucker,” Mal said, holding his arms out. “I’m right here.”
Becca found herself frozen, stuck in place. For a second there, she had thought this all was sorted out, but now, it looked like there was one last piece of business before there could be peace.
“Hold up,” Victor said. “I don’t care if Mal did some shit that we don’t approve of. That’s for us to handle. Ain’t no way I’m just handing him over to you.”
“Don’t,” Griz said, his eyes never leaving Mal.
“What?” Victor said.
“Don’t hand him over,” Griz said. “Fair fight. Him and me. Right here, right now. And then either way it goes, it will all be over.”
“And your boys are going to be good with that?” Victor said. “Even if you lose?”
Griz looked over his shoulder. There was Wyatt, leaning on his cane, his face inscrutable. His brother knew what had to be done. He nodded.
“Mal?” Victor said.
“I’m good with that,” Mal said. “How you want to do this, hillbilly boy?”
“Any way you like,” Griz said. “Guns, knives, bare hands.”
Mal looked him up and down before saying, “Axe handles.”
