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“And Amara doesn’t mind?”
“Since when do I give a fuck about Amara?” I posture. “She might be the fucking madam, but I’m still in charge.”
It’s not true. Amara is the only thing that keeps Dick’s Picks in the black, but apparently, it’s the right response, because Prez abruptly changes subjects. “Me and Joker had a convo with Trident. He’s sendin’ some of his boys up here to bolster our numbers.”
Trident is the president of the Jury’s Vegas chapter and a mean fucker wrapped up in cupcake foil. He’s this mellow, even-tempered guy, even when he’s pissed, but that don’t mean he won’t single-handedly beat you to death. He’ll be smiling doin’ it, but still.
“Who’s coming?” Coyote asks. Coyote will have to do a security reassessment to accommodate the new guys.
“And where will they be staying?” Rocky adds.
Hangman addresses Rocky’s question first. “They’ll be staying with you, fucker. You and Jess have a big enough bed.”
Rocky’s face turns red. “Fuck that! Those guys aren’t getting’ anywhere near Jess.” Rocky’s smart, so it makes no sense he’s reacting to Hangman’s half-assed attempt at humour. I guess girlfriends really do make you stupider.
Reaper echoes my thought out loud as he rolls his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
“Piss off, cocksucker,” Rocky replies with a middle-finger salute.
“Clearly someone didn’t get fucked this morning,” Jawbone comments, drawing laughter. He’s a pain in the ass, but he has some good one-liners.
Coyote interjects like the entitled asshole he is. “Who gives a fuck where they’re staying.” It’s funny to hear the shit that comes out of Coyote’s mouth these days. He used to be this posh bugger, but since his girl almost died and his sisters got kidnapped, his golden crown is tarnished. He’s still not up to my bad-ass standards, but less easy to fuck with than he used to be.
“There’s no fuckin’ room here,” Hash jumps in with his usual abrasive tone. “We’re full up since Peyton moved in.” Peyton, the fucked up ex-Blackbeard chick, was instrumental in saving Coyote’s sisters. Hash’s the biggest asshole the Jury’s got, so everyone was suspicious when he took her under his wing. He’s lookin’ after her, but keeping his dick zipped up. I’m still waiting for his ulterior motive, but so far, nothing.
“When’s she movin’ out?” King asks gruffly. “We’re not a fuckin’ shelter for Blackbeard ex-whores.”
Hash bares his teeth. “When I fuckin’ say, you asshole. You gotta a problem with that, I’ll meet you outside.”
Joker intervenes in the school-yard fight. “Forget about Peyton. She’s not on the fuckin’ agenda.” He looks down at his notebook. “Brothers from Vegas are Mothman, Viking, Rider, and Stark.
I whistle. Mothman is Vegas royalty. His father is president, and his brother is the veep. It’s a family affair, and the trifecta rule with an iron fist. “We get the evil princess, hey?”
Blood snorts. “Too fuckin’ ugly to be a princess.”
“Who’s Stark?” Red asks.
“Mothman’s prospect.”
Fender sighs like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “That’s just what we need. Another fuckin’ Crank.”
“Fuck off,” Hash warns. Hash is sponsoring Crank, who’s so wet behind the ears, there’s mould growing, but the kid’s an inker with more talent than Picasso. Better even than Hash, whose talent far exceeds his brain. Hash runs Sailor Jerry’s, our ink shop.
Eight snorts from his corner. He never sits, hardly ever talks, but he’s deadly with his fists and any other weapon of choice. “He ain’t no Crank. Ex-Navy Seal with a take-no-prisoners rep. Scary motherfucker.”
“How do ya know him?” Red asks.
Eight answers with a none-of-your-fucking-business glare.
“You’ll get along with Viking.” Hangman smirks at Eight. “He don’t got much to say either.”
Fender chirps like a cricket, which gets us laughing.
“They’ll be here tomorrow or next,” Joker says, trying to bring the meeting under control. “They’ll be takin’ rooms at the Shawshank.” Shawshank’s motel, which also rents rooms by the hour, is conveniently located near our brothel. Not one of our properties, but a good appendage to have and the guy who runs it don’t mind the business.
“Move on,” Hangman orders. “We got a lot of bullshit to get through.”
Joker doesn’t acknowledge Hangman and I wonder if they’re on the outs. Joker’s the only one that Hangman treats with real respect. If the prez has a friend in our club, it’s definitely the veep. Doesn’t matter if Joker’s pissed at Prez though – he won’t let that interfere with doing his job. “How’s the progress on the renos?” he asks Fender.
