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Rat laughed, slapping his knee. “Listen to this son of a bitch talkin’ like getting my money is easy.” His fist flew into my face, knocking me back. “If it was so fucking easy, why don’t I have it?”
Christ, that hit hurt.
Tears stung behind my eyes. “I’ll get it.”
“The price has gone up.”
Of course it had. Fuck. “How much?”
“You smug bastard.” Rat got in my face, seething. “You gonna write me a check, grandpa? Got that kind of money in an offshore account I don’t know about?” Rat was an ugly ass dude. His name fitted him well with his black beady eyes and pointy nose.
“No, but I know someone who does.” The last time I’d spoken to Raul, the day of Dante’s birth, he’d mentioned the club coming into a shit-ton of money. He teased me for turning in my cut but didn’t give me any details. He made it sound like the club was set for life.
I prayed they’d help me.
Rat paced again, like a hungry lion. If he rejected my offer, I was a dead man. Emilee and my grandson would be in danger. I had no idea where she’d run off to. Somehow she’d found out about Rat coming for Dante. My girl had always been sharp-witted. She’d find a way to protect her and the baby.
The side door to the warehouse opened. My heart plummeted when Tami sashayed in. What the fuck was she doing here? Dammit, I didn’t need to ask. I’d been fucking played.
Rat eyed her with a grin. “I hear you fuck all right for an old dude. Made my sister mighty happy.”
My one good eye flicked from Tami to Rat. I saw the resemblance. Christ, this just got a whole lot worse.
“Jesus, Rat. Did you have to mess up his pretty face?” Tami frowned, but I didn’t buy it. If the bitch was here, she was involved with trying to steal my grandson.
“Oh, I’m not finished with him yet, sis.” He leveled his beady eyes at me. “Two million and you live.”
I didn’t flinch at the amount. “And my daughter and grandson?”
He held my gaze as Tami put her hand on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Where the fuck had she been, and what had she been up to?
“If you let me down, Justin.”
I gritted my teeth. “I won’t.” Dread overcame me as the words left my lips. I wouldn’t get off unscathed. The MC would never let a piece of shit go without a parting gift like a broken arm. Boxer usually carved his mark with his knife, Ricky, in the criminal’s neck.
“Well, just to be sure you know that I mean business…” He jerked his chin toward a guy standing off to the side.
Called it.
“What are you doing, Rat?” Tami’s eyes flashed in alarm. Maybe she cared a little about me. I sure as fuck didn’t give a shit about the lying bitch anymore. Messing with my family had been a deadly mistake.
“What do you value more, Justin?” He wiggled his index and middle digits. “Your pussy-playing fingers? Or your eye?”
Tami gasped. “Rat!”
His hand swung wide and across the bitch’s face, knocking her to the ground. Good, it was what I’d have done if I wasn’t being held.
“Shut your fucking mouth, Tami.” He turned back toward me. “Well, grandpa? What’s it going to be? Better speak fast before my kindness evaporates.”
I didn’t think twice about it. “Fingers.”
The dude Rat had called over pulled a butcher knife from a toolbox. At least it wasn’t pliers with jagged teeth, like Boxer used when torturing someone. It should be a clean cut… I hoped.
I was lowered to the ground.
“Right or left?” Rat barked.
I bet it was a trick question.
