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“Hey, we have somewhere to be,” Alejandro reminds me.
“Yeah, I gotta go, Shannon. Anyone else asks about me and my father, you tell them it’s none of their business. You got that?”
She looks down at the ground. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
I don’t say anything else. Instead, I climb into the truck, start the engine and drive away.
Chapter28
Jax
“So, who are these guys? Any idea?” I ask as I drive toward the address Alejandro gave me.
“Nope. That asshole who owns the bar said he’s seen them a couple of times but he didn’t know their names. They were there the night your father was beaten up. They had one beer each and then left just before he did. They’re known to be trouble and people generally stay out of their way.”
“So, how does he know where they live?”
“His girlfriend used to buy a little pot from one of them.”
“So we’re looking for some pot dealers? If this is where they keep their stash, they’re probably armed.”
“Isn’t everyone in Texas armed?” he says with a shrug. “Besides, I don’t think they’re big time, else they wouldn’t need to beat people up as a side hustle, would they?”
I nod my agreement and keep driving.
When we finally pull up at the house, I shut off the engine and take a look around. It’s an old wooden house set on a small plot of land. There’s nothing else nearby, which makes it kind of perfect for us. There are motorcycle parts on the front lawn and an old tin bathtub full of rainwater.
“You ready to do this?” Alejandro asks, tucking two guns into the waistband at the back of his trousers.
“Yup,” I jump out of the truck.
The smell of smoke hangs in the air and the thick black plume of the stuff coming from the back of the house makes us bypass the front door and head around to the rear of the property. As we draw closer, we hear talking, laughing and then someone hollers something that makes them all whoop and whistle.
“Sounds like they’re having a party?” Alejandro says with a frown.
“Sounds like they’re assholes,” I suggest, and he laughs softly.
“How you want to play this, amigo?”
“Let me do the talking?” I ask. It’s usually him who’d do that.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Like a reverse Jacksonville?”
I nod my head. A few years ago, we went to Jacksonville to deal with a bunch of rednecks who had assaulted Alejandro’s cousin, Lauren, while she was working a case in Florida. She’s a lawyer but she lives in London now. He started with the talking and when he didn’t like what they had to say, I shot one of them and we made the others fight until there was only one left standing, before I put a bullet in his head too. “Exactly like that.”
We walk into the yard and see four guys standing around a bonfire, each of them holding a bottle of beer in their hands.
“You think they got any women here?” Alejandro asks, looking around the yard.
“I hope not,” I hiss, because that would sure complicate matters.
As we draw closer, I notice one of them wearing a red cap with a Motor Oil logo on it, like my father said.
“Who the fuck are you?” the one with red cap snarls.
“I hear you might be looking for work?” I say, holding my hands up in surrender.
“Fuck you!” one of them spits tobacco into the fire.
