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“Any questions?”
I bring the 7-Eleven coffee to my lips and down it, feeling the warm buzz immediately.
“Yeah, if it’s that easy, why do we need you?”
He looks over at me and smiles. “Because I’m an expert at seeing things the right way and making sure others see it that way also.”
“Okay.” Blade sits. “Either of you want a drink?” He unscrews the cap on the Jameson bottle.
“I’ll have that.” Jett motions at the bottle. “Now, the case they are building is that Ryder”—he looks at me—“shot three helpless Russian men in the head with a 9mm Glock, then buried them.” Edge sets a highball glass in front of him and pours him a generous amount of whiskey.
“Let’s discuss the witness they have. In past cases of mine, when a witness is so important that the whole case is built on them”—he looks down at his tie to straighten it, then back at Blade—“ninety-nine percent of the time those witnesses seem to have a change of heart, or they don’t show up.” He picks up the glass of whiskey. “And since none of this actually happened, I’m sure this witness will understand there is no reason to testify.” He then shoots the whiskey in one quick toss without even a grimace.
“No witness. No case.”
Standing, I reach for the bottle. This is why Roddy brought him in. Roddy doesn’t have the stomach for this kind of dirty, but this man does.
Blade’s eyes narrow. The only sound in the room is Ox coughing as he lights up another cigarette.
“If that doesn’t seem like it will happen, I need to know.” He looks at Blade who watches him indifferently, then nods.
“No. I’m certain the witness will have a change of heart.”
“Good. As for the raids and all the other evidence that they’re trying to put together, it’s not going well for them. Your businesses are legal, and your books are in good shape.” He brings his phone out of his suit pocket to look at it.
“As soon as they arrest Ryder, I’ll go in front of the press, stating that you served your country in Afghanistan as a hero, that you’re an ex-Navy SEAL, and that you’re being targeted unfairly.
“No press,” I interrupt.
“We need them.” He stands. “Plain and simple. The prosecutors are working with the Feds. They will use the media, but I will have gotten to them first. And you need to remember that Axel is famous, and Granger has to be considered as well.”
“I’m not famous,” Axel says, sitting down.
Jett looks at him. “I’m sorry, am I supposed to lie to you? You have a following. Your sister is married to one of the biggest rock stars in the world. Trust me, when this goes down, we’ll have a ton of vultures to deal with.” He says all this calmly, like he’s talking about the weather.
“Look, man, you might be some fucking hot—” I put my hand up to stop Axel from making a scene.
“Powers, if shit goes down, and it looks like my brothers, or my club, will be facing charges, I don’t care what anyone says. I take the stand and I take the fall.”
Jett’s eyes, which were locked on Axel’s, dart to mine. This might be the first real emotion I’ve seen from him and it’s surprise—almost like he’s never surprised and can’t believe it. He recovers quickly though.
“Ryder will not take the fall. That’s why we hired you. You do your job, don’t worry about the rest.” Blade commands the room as all of my brothers stare at me.
Jett looks down at the table, then back at me. With a nod he turns to Blade. “I’m the best at doing my job. Let’s hope the Disciples are the best too.” Again, I hold up my hand to stop Axel from being Axel.
“Okay.” Roddy stands, his face filled with worry. The room is charged with dark energy. “I think we’ve got everything we need to move forward.”
Jett smiles, his perfect mask falling into place as he nods and grabs his phone. “Oh, and one more thing. You should do business as usual. Since you’re all innocent, you have nothing to hide.” He looks at Blade, then nods at me as he passes. Roddy is already holding the door open. They start talking again as it closes behind them, like a tomb being shut.
Final.
Dark.
I hear the explosion of cursing and other derogatory names about Jett Powers coming out of my brothers’ mouths.
Closing my eyes, I focus on the sound of the clock’s second hand ticking over my head.
The storm I’ve been waiting for is almost here.
“Goddamn it,” Blade says. My eyes shift to him. He’s looking out the window. “Why are my wife and Dolly talking to some redhead at the pool?”
JULIANNA
Present
Disciples’ clubhouse
Burbank, CA
I’m lying back, letting the warm sun take away the paleness of New York, about to let my sore muscles from Ryder and last night melt into the deep cushions on the wooden lawn chairs, when I sense a black shadow over me and blink.
