Page 121 of Thug

“You wanna search this place, and see if he’s got those guns?” Chin asked.

“No,” I said. “I’ll pay his debt to get the books right, and then I’ll come back here once a week and beat this prick for GP.”

“Taking a risk, coming back.”

I was covered in the pervert’s blood. I looked at Chin and laughed. “Look at me. I’m taking a risk leaving this place. Be lucky if I don’t get pulled over on the way to the clubhouse and questioned for any unsolved murder that’s taken place over the past two years.”

The unconscious kiddy porn creep began to stir. I kicked the heel of my boot against his jaw, knocking him unconscious again. “Lot of shit I can look past,” I said. “Raping bitches and fucking with little kids don’t qualify.”

“I can’t look past it either,” Chin said. He nervously peeked out the window before looking right at me. “But we’ve got to be sensible about this, Boss. You need to find a way to curb that temper, I’m telling ya.”

He was right.

The first step in doing so was forgiving Brisco. Doing so would require releasing the hostages.

Upon realizing that fact, I booted the pervert’s jaw, again. And, again. And, again.

31

Gray

We sat at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee after dinner. It was nice to be able to relax, mid-week, without worrying about the bar.

“That new cook’s killing it,” Price said.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s awesome. Everything he makes is just like you made it. Hell, it’s impossible to tell it apart.”

I didn’t like thinking someone could cook as good as me, but Manny followed directions well. All I had to do was show him once, and he understood exactly what I wanted. Since hiring him, we added pork tacos, and a barbeque pork sandwich to the menu. Both were his creations, and a fabulous edition to the bar’s offerings.

“He follows directions well,” I said. “And, he’s super easy to get along with.”

“He’s not having any problems with Teddi, is he?”

“He just laughs at her.”

“Her, or her corny jokes?”

“Both.”

He stood, walked to the coffee pot, and poured his cup full. He lifted the pot. “More?”

“No, thank you.”

He took his seat. “We need to have a talk.”

My shoulders slumped. “Oh, Lord.”

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Every time you want to have a talk, it’s either something really good, or something really bad. I’m just wondering which it is.”

“Little of both,” he said.

“Do the bad first.”

He sipped his coffee. “You sure?”