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“Besides, we all know you guys need me for this pretty face.” He gets all up in my face, leaning over Spencer's legs. I put my hand on his so-called pretty face and slam him back into his seat and away from me. He slams into the door laughing before he rights himself again, leaning back and propping his legs up on the dashboard.
“What is with you fucks and putting your shoes all over my car!”
I slam my hand into the steering wheel as my rage boils over. Neither of them so much as flinched more than used to my quick temper where my car is concerned after being friends for so long.
I turn my attention to the building again and sit back, running my hand through my hair in frustration.
We fall silent again now that Zander has gotten some of his energy out at my expense. I look at the clock and have to hold back a groan. It's only nine-thirty, and we will be here until midnight at the very least.
“It’s gonna be a long night.” Spencer comments as if reading my mind.
“Just wake me up if anything interesting happens, boys.” Zander throws his arms behind his head and scoots down lower into the seat to get comfortable as he reclines. I don’t even argue because I would rather him sleep than annoy the shit out of me for the next two and a half hours.
* * *
Just like we always did,we watch what we’re told, and by we, I mostly mean me.
We have been taking orders from the boss, Froggie, for the last few years. More often than not, we're used as muscle and distribution when we aren’t at the clubs in our territory. The further we worked our way up the ranks, the more important the jobs got.
When we first started, all we did was recon. Nobody puts new blood in a position to fuck shit up. Well, nobody smart at least, and Froggie is anything but stupid—even if his name might be.
We were seventeen when we first started, and back then, even sitting in the car and seeing nothing for six hours was exciting.
Now we have experience. We run our part of the city under Froggie’s eye and have our own men to run our recon for us. Even so, when the boss asks for you specifically, you fucking do it. No matter how boring it may sound, you sound fucking happy to do it.
People have died for less than not following Froggie's orders, and I’ll be damned if I go out for that.
* * *
It's justafter eleven thirty, and nothing has happened. I’m unsure if I’m mad about the lack of action or happy we had time to relax. Either way, I push it aside. It's not like we had a choice but to be here, no matter what happened.
I push Zander over, suppressing a laugh as his head slams into the glass, abruptly waking him up. Oops, I guess I pushed him harder than I needed to, but the fucker deserved it for earlier.
“What the fuck, man!” Zander yells at me, his hand going to the red spot on his forehead that will probably be a nice bump later. There’s no real heat in his words, and I shrug since he’s yet to pull his knife on me, so he must not be that mad.
“Shouldn’t have been sleeping on the job, Zan. Maybe next time, instead of waking your bitch ass up, we’ll just let Froggie know.” Spencer shrugs the back as if it’s no real difference, but we all know it is.
The color drains from Zander’s face as he whips around to glare at Spencer from between the two front seats.
“Don’t fucking play around like that!” His voice is steady, but panic is evident on his face.
None of us have ever met Froggie, but I’m not sure we'd want to with a rep like his. Froggie's been around for a few years now. From everything I’ve ever heard, he came up from the underground at a young age, started killing first, and asking questions later– to those who were lucky enough to survive.
He'd put the whole city under his thumb in the last seven years. All the old gangs were either killed or absorbed into Vengeance.
We came in a few months after Froggie took over. We'd been trying to be a part of Sin, which was once the biggest gang in our neighborhood, but once it was gone, we knew Vengeance was where we belonged.
“Don’t be such a pussy, Zan.” Spencer teases him, and I let him have his fun. He can talk a big game, but we all know he’s just as afraid of Froggie.
Hell, everyone is.
“I’m not a pussy. I just prefer to stay alive, thank you.” Zander huffs and turns back around in his seat, slamming back into it much harder than necessary as he throws a fit worthy of any toddler.
I shake my head at both of them. I’m not sure how I became the more level-headed of the group, but when it comes to their constant bickering, I prefer to stay the hell out of it.
We now run the South charter of Vengeance and help out with the Eastside since it doesn’t have anyone on top yet. All three of us run it together the same way we do everything else and have since we were kids. Our parents have been friends since they were in high school, and as a result, we got thrown together at an early age. Twenty-three years later, we're closer than most blood siblings are. I would take a bullet for these stupid fucks, and I know they would for me as well.
Hell, Spencer has before.
