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“Can you tell your friends to put their guns away now?” Phee whispered with that crooked smile I adored as the both of us climbed up off the rough ground. “Heath and Bray are two of the richest kids in Cali. I don’t think they’re really sure what they’ve just stepped into.”
I looked over at the two fashionably dressed teens. They were trying to hold strong, but it was obvious that this environment wasn’t what they were used to. No doubt back home they were the kings of the castle, they probably threw a few punches at a party or two to show just how alpha they were, to keep the competition at bay. But down here, you didn’t have a gun, no one was about to wait for you to get close enough to let you throw a punch.
We didn’t street fight.
Around here, it was kill or be killed.
“Bring them in,” I told her, nodding at Op to let him know they wouldn’t be a threat. Both he and Leo tucked their guns away again but continued to watch the two boys carefully as they made their way toward us, their eyes scanning the compound carefully. The boys followed behind as we hustled inside, the worried look on Wrench’s face like a foot up the ass.
“Guys, this is my brother, Hamlet,” she introduced with a smile. Her hand still gripping tightly to my arm. “Hamlet, this is Heath and Braydon Carson. Their family owns the home that I live in. Their mom started it for us to give us a place to go to school and learn skills that would help us to get jobs and stuff.”
Holding my hand out, Heath, the eldest brother, took my hand and shook it hard. It was amicable, and for a pretty rich boy, I was impressed with the strength he held. “Nice to finally meet you,” he noted. “Wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to say that or not.”
I sighed, my head bobbing in agreement before I offered my hand to Braydon, who was a little less serious and a little more distracted, his eyes taking in the inside of the clubhouse. There was excitement in his eyes, almost like a small child who’d been put in the middle of a playground and couldn’t decide what toy to play with first.
“Apologies about the whole gun thing,” Leo teased as he walked past and headed for the bar and patting Braydon on the back as he went by. “I’d offer you boys a beer, but you’re underage.”
Braydon instantly made a beeline for the bar, his eyes glued to the bottle of vodka in Leo’s hand. “Now, now, don’t judge me just because I have this perfect baby face. I can handle my alcohol better than most seasoned veterans,” he protested, leaping up onto one of the barstools snatching the short glass from the bar and holding it out. “Hit me.”
“Bray…” Heath growled following his brother, clearly unimpressed. He grabbed the back of Braydon’s collar in his fist. “You don’t just walk into a biker clubhouse and demand alcohol… or any fucking thing for that matter.”
“Yeah, we don’t give that shit away for free,” I added with a smirk while pulling Phee with me toward them. Leo was clearly amused by the balls this kid had tucked away in his designer pants and was chuckling under his breath. Braydon eagerly reached for his wallet, not even bothering to ask for a price. At least now I knew how Phee managed to get here from Cali so damn fast. I was imagining private planes.
“We trade for guns and cocaine,” Leo cut in, almost managing to hold a straight face. “The bottle will cost you a couple of ounces.”
“Seems a little steep,” Braydon responded like he was completely unfazed by the demand as he opened his leather Louis Vuitton wallet and eyed the contents for a few seconds before finally looking up. “I’ve got fifty bucks and half a joint.”
Leo snorted, and both Op and Wrench, who had already made their way into the meeting room waiting for us, roared with laughter.
Without hesitation, Leo cracked the bottle and poured the contents into Braydon’s glass. “I like you, kid.”
Shaking my head with a wide grin, I directed Phee toward the club’s meeting room.
Heath waved us off when Phee looked at him questioningly. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on him,” he assured her with a sigh pulling up a barstool next to his brother.
I closed the doors behind us before taking a seat at the table.
Wrench leaned back in his chair taking a deep breath before he laid down what he knew. “Ophelia is right… Romeo got into an altercation with a couple of guys in prison. Sounds like he gave as good as he got, though, but he sustained a few injuries that needed stitches and tending to.”
I clenched my hands into fists. “You think this is something to do with my visit? Someone recognized me? Had something against the club?”
“No, it was a warning,” Phee spoke up. “It’s not the first time Romeo has tried to leave the…business.” The way she said the word sent a shiver up my spine.
“How did you know that’s what happened?” Wrench asked curiously.
She inhaled deeply sneaking a peek at me out of the corner of her eye as if she was embarrassed. “I talked to him. He told me you’d been to visit, and that maybe this time he’d be able to get away. I could hear in his voice how just the idea of leaving it all behind had given him a lifeline.” She looked down at the table, her eyes following the deeply engraved pattern in the wood. “He has seen some bad shit. He’s had to do some things…” Her voice tapered off, and I hung my head feeling once again like a fucking failure. He’d hinted at a few things that had made me cringe, but given the environment we were in, he couldn’t go into much detail.
When I’d left, I was still unsure of whether he was going to take me up on my offer to have his back and fight for him to have a new and different life, but I hadn’t realized just how much it had meant to him.
It turned out my little brother had developed more of a poker face than I knew.
“What happened last time he tried to get out?” Op asked the question that I couldn’t.
I turned my head, watching as Phee pressed her lips together nervously. “His boss got wind of it—”
“He has a boss?” Wrench questioned with a deep frown. “I thought he basically worked for himself.”
“Me too…” I added in confusion.
