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“I guess the puzzle is slowly beginning to make sense,” Blizzard observed, reclining in my office chair.
“Yeah, it’s all coming together but it ain’t making a fucking pretty picture,” Leo grumbled as he paced the room. Blizzard, Leo, Wrench and I had come together to try and come up with a plan, or at least try to understand what the fuck was going on.
“Let’s get this all straight,” I told my boys, leaning with my palms flat on the table in front of me. I couldn’t sit down, my body was too anxious. Leo had talked to Kit’s father, Oz and he’d been able to shed some light on a few things, including the significance of the dates and places that had been changed on Leo and Wrench’s records. Oz had been around for almost as long as our national president—a hard ass name Huntsman—and had gained just as much respect. If there was someone big within the crime world taken down, they knew about it. They had to because, with one more name out of the game, it meant there was money to be made.
“Romano DePalma was locked up in 1997. It’s not often a mob boss gets caught with his hand on the evidence, but apparently there were suspicions of a rat inside the family,” Leo explained, recalling what he had heard from Oz. “They scrambled for a while, Marco, the oldest brother had no idea what he was doing. During the mess, the Brothers by Blood ended up picking up some of their buyers—guns and ice I think.”
“So how did Anthony come to be in charge?” Wrench asked, finally taking a break from scanning his computer.
“When Romano saw that his eldest son couldn’t sort his shit out, he took back the reins and ran the family businesses from inside his prison cell. Not an easy task but not the first time it’s been done.” Leo stopped pacing and leaned against the door to my office, scrubbing his hand through his now short hair, a look I was still getting used to. “2005 is where this starts to get fucked up.”
Blizzard nodded. “So Romano finally decides to hand the family business over, but surprise, surprise, he gives it to his second eldest Anthony instead of Marco.”
“Ouch,” Wrench screwed up his face. “Bet that hurt the ego.”
“No shit. You’re ready to run one of the most powerful criminal rings in the USA and Daddy tells youno?” I shook my head. “Marco would’ve been pissed.”
“Right. So a couple months later—bam, Romano is killed in a small riot inside the prison.” Blizzard shakes his head. “Just around the time our boys here are apparently inside.”
I frowned. “So what the fuck does that mean? Someone is trying to set us up, say that it was the club that took him out?”
Leo snorted. “Seems that way. And they went through some trouble to provide that kind of proof.”
“This can’t be the DEA,” I said, picking up the falsified papers and scanning over them. “It would be far too easy for us to prove that you weren’t in prison at that time. The government may be stupid, but they ain’t that stupid.”
“So what was Target’s motive?” Wrench asked, closing the lid to his laptop.
“Someone in the family wanted Romano dead and I think they used us as the scapegoat.” I slammed the papers down on the table. This shit was getting dirty. Not only were they after my woman, but now we find out they were trying to pin some shit on us that we hadn’t even done.
Blizz tapped his fingers on my desk. “What was it that Harmony said that day? Target was the Trojan horse. He was sent in to destroy us from the inside out.”
“This shit happened ten fucking years ago. Target was barely around for half of that. Why did they wait?” Leo mused, but I knew the answer. Everything was coming together now, the pieces finally clear and slotting into place.
“He was too young. Marco didn’t have any kids and Target was Anthony’s eldest son. He came to us when he turned eighteen. They just bided their time until he was old enough to prospect,” I growled. “This shit is fucked up on so many God damn levels.”
“But wait, there’s more,” Blizzard said jokingly, but his face told a totally different story as his eyes connected with mine. “I found a newspaper article online about Romano’s arrest in 1997. Why don’t you read it and share with the class who was in charge of the operation that brought him down?” He handed it to me and I had to force my eyes to look down to read it.
I knew this wasn’t going to be good, I could tell just by the look on his face. I scanned the article. “Fuck me.” I looked up at Blizzard. “This is a fucking joke right?”
He slumped back in his chair. “Wish it fucking was.”
“Who is it?” Leo asked curiously, pushing off the door and standing straight.
“David Blackwell, DEA,” I groaned.
“Chelsea’s dad?” Wrench said in complete awe. “Well, this just went from a tad fucked up to being plowed straight in the ass.”
“Optimus!”
I jumped as I heard someone scream my name. We all looked at each other for a minute before Leo threw the door open and took off running, the three of us following suit.
“Optimus!”I made it to the main room just as Neil screamed my name again as he ran out from the club girls hall, obviously in search of me. He was breathing hard but managed to push out the words that I desperately did not want to hear. “Chelsea...Rose had a gun...forced her into a car.” I jabbed his finger toward the front gates and I didn’t even bother to stick around and ask any more questions.
I heard a revving engine as a black Mercedes took off full speed down the usually quiet street. By now more of my brothers had gathered, including a couple Old Ladies and Sugar holding a wide-eyed, Harlyn.
“Blizzard, Camo, Wrench, get your bikes, try catch up with them,” I yelled as I ran toward the front gates. Kev dragged them open, holding his rifle in one hand.
“What the fuck happened?” I roared.
