Page 176 of Rebellious

Christopher knew Hart meant selling to cartels and private armies, highly profitable but extremely risky.

“I have the buyers. You have to get them safely in their hands. If you’re caught, I don’t know you.”

“I want sixty mil up front.” He’d set up a shell company to clean the motherfucking profit. “I gotta pay for transport. Pay the guys on the job—”

“This will be six shipments over six months,” he said, not responding to Christopher’s request.

Fuck. The longer it went, the greater the risk.

“In tandem with my drug shipments. Weekly. High-grade coke. Meth. Pills. Heroine.”

Lance Hart was dirty to the core. Before Christopher contacted him, he’d found out through his contacts that Hart had taken out a few international arms dealers to get his hands on the merchandise. If the feds got wind of his role, they might’ve offered him a deal if he lured in others in his network. It was why Christopher hadn’t wanted to be on camera.

“Sixty mil up front for the guns. Twenty-five for the drugs. In addition to the agreed upon amount, I want ten percent of the profits every fuckin’ week for the drugs and fifteen percent every week for the guns. After the third shipment is delivered. I expect one hundred mil or operations stop.” “The other hundred mil when the last shipment is done.”

If they made it that far without getting arrested or killed, Christopher would have to be careful. Hart’s good faith might disappear and he’d try to take out Christopher and everyone else connected to the operation so he wouldn’t have to make that last payment.

“I’ll see that your money’s transferred by week’s end.” Hart held out his hand. “Just remember, I don’t like it if a man fucks over my money.”

Christopher shook Hart’s hand. “Ain’t plannin’ to,” he said, releasing the motherfucker’s sweaty palm. “Val?”

Val walked to him. “Prez?”

Christopher nodded to Val. “This the co-lieutenant of the operation.”

Val’s eyes widened, his only reaction.

“You’ll meet Torrin soon,” Christopher continued.

Hart lifted a brow. “Anything else?”

“Not a fuckin’ thing.”

Not bothering to dress, Hart got into his Aston and sped off.

“I thought Torrin—”

“We have to talk about cleanin’ your money, Val,” Christopher interrupted. “Bitsy about to have another kid. No fuckin’ way was I leavin’ you outta the bulk of the profits.”

Val nodded, unaware of how much Christopher had asked for up front. “Thank you, Outlaw.”

“Thank me when this shit over and we all afuckinlive or not in prison for fuckin’ life. Let’s ride,” Christopher said, and headed to his bike.

Outlaw expected Easton to tell Coach Yancy that Ryan would be the starting quarterback. Yet, when he talked to the football coach and discovered all the particulars, Easton couldn’t bring himself to do it without first talking to Outlaw and explaining the situation.

Which he did promptly when the man walked into Easton’s office right after lunch and frowned.

“What the fuck is that smell?” he asked, slamming the door shut and walking to one of the chairs in front of Easton’s desk.

“It isn’t as strong as it was when I first came in Monday morning, Outlaw.”

“You ain’t bought fuckin’ air freshener, assfuck?”

Easton shrugged. “I’d like that and new fucking décor. This office is depressing.”

Outlaw swiveled his head, glancing around, and nodded. “Do what you gotta. It’ll be taken care of.”

“I hate to disrupt the office near the end of the school year.”