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Something about Teller seems to leave Loco unsettled and I find that funny as fuck.
Loco shakes it off and allows his gaze to slide over Rock, Z, and finally land on me.
“Grinder.” His eyes widen and his anxious frown turns into a more welcoming smile. “Honored to finally meet you in the flesh. Congratulations on your freedom.”
“Thank you.” I hold out my hand and he grips it tight. He tugs and I get the feeling if the desk wasn’t in our way, he’d try pulling me in for a hug. “Glad to finally put a face with a name. Wanted to come by and say thank you—”
“No, no, no.” He drops my hand and shakes his head vigorously. “I need to thank you for looking out for my boy Ricky inside. Really appreciate what you did for him.”
Damn, Ricky must’ve been released at least three years ago. “How’s he doing now?”
“Not bad. Not bad. Got off parole. Moved down south. Stayin’ out of trouble.”
Surprised the kid’s still alive. “Well, that’s more than any of us can hope for.”
“Got that right.” He gestures to the chairs in front of the desk. “Have a seat, gentlemen.”
There are only two chairs. A third one rests against the wall. Teller grabs it and sets it closer to the desk, gesturing for me to take it.
Rock drops into the middle chair and Z takes the one on the other end. Teller puts his back to the wall so he’s facing Loco.
Loco stares at him as if Teller might flip into a rampage at any moment. Can’t wait to hear that story.
Rock settles into the chair, adopting a casual pose that suggests the barest hint of interest. Z remains rigid, as if he’s waiting and eager for whatever Loco’s about to share. I’m somewhere in between the two of them. Curious but also wanting to get all the posturing and theatrics over with.
“Normally, I don’t pay a lot of attention to what’s going on inside,” Loco says, flapping his hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. “Prison is its own jurisdiction.”
I straighten my spine. My part of this meeting isn’t over.
“Same here,” Rock says.
Loco taps the back of his hand. “I understand things are different inside. Split along more obvious lines.” He nods at me. “That’s why what you did for Ricky means something to me.” He slaps his hand over his heart. “And I know you worked to leave things in a fair way before you got out.”
Fuck. “I have a feelin’ that all went to shit,” I say.
Loco dips his chin. “Big Chief be steppin’ on a lotta toes in there.”
I sit forward and lower my voice. “He’s messin’ with things out here too.”
“That’s what I heard.” Loco shifts his gaze to Rock. “What are you doing about it?”
“We’re still monitoring the situation,” Rock answers in an even tone. “As you can probably figure out all by yourself, my brother’s in a precarious position.” Rock rests his hand on the arm of my chair, a subtle reminder that his loyalty to me will come before any business arrangements with Loco.
“We be standing alongside each other on this one, Rock.” Loco raises his hands like he’s waving a white flag of surrender.
“You got a shady parole officer after you, Grinder?” Loco asks.
“How’d you know?”
“I hear things.” He sits back, a sly smile sliding over his face. “I can take care of that problem for you. That way you don’t take the heat for it.”
“That’s one hell of a big favor.” Rock leans forward. “What exactly do you want in return?”
“Ahhh, that’s the businessman I know.” Loco shakes his finger at Rock. “You never disappoint.”
“Cut the shit, Loco,” Z says.
“Zero, you’re more and more presidential every time I see you.”
“Let me get this straight.” I tap my fingers on his desk to get his attention. “You’re offering to take out my parole officer, in exchange for what?”
“Well, for one thing, I owe you,” he says.
“You don’t owe me shit.”
“How you think I know about Grillo?” Loco says in a low voice. Now we’re getting down to business.
“He’s hassling you?”
“Not me. Ain’t been on parole in over a decade.”
I glare at him, fully understanding why Rock finds dealing with Loco so annoying. “Good for you.”
“He was involved in the hit on your guys inside,” Z says.
“See, Z gets it.” Loco points at Z, his voice rising in agitation. “He gets it.”
“We all get it,” Rock says.
“Grillo went after my girl.” And caused a chain reaction of events that probably led to my current predicament.
“Shit. You serious?” Loco asks.
“He sent someone after my girl,” I clarify. “That guy’s been dealt with.”
Loco sweeps his gaze from me to Rock, then Z. “Who? How?”
“It’s club-related,” Rock says, cutting off Loco’s questions.
“Bro, all this is club-related.” Loco swings his arm in a wide circle over his desk. “All of this.”
