AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“My friend who’s gonna go to prison for shit he didn’t do knows the guy.”
“I want to talk to that guy.”
Tizio sighs. “Well, you’re gonna need a fucking séance. Dude’s dead. Last week. Shoot out in Tijuana.”
“Fuck.”
* * *
I check I have my permits, my gun, and I follow all the rules to a T. I pack the bike with the flowers and make sure all excess ammo and weapons are in a case that resides in the manager’s office. He used to work with my father, back when the bastard could hold a job, so he’ll make sure it stays there until I pick it up personally.
I go over everything. Tizio didn’t say anything with a magic solution. I didn’t expect that, but I’d have liked it, anyway.
Hearing the Smith Group again bothers me in that way bad memories and omens do.
If this was Dallas or I had Tizio and Nicolo here, or one of the top De Lucas, I’d never flush the drugs. But there’s a bad feeling in the air, heavy like doom. Okay, I probably shouldn’t have beat the douche so badly, but he did deserve it.
This Westies bullshit named group is nothing more than a bunch of overprivileged assholes playing with the law. They all seem to believe they’re all bad to the fucking bone, including Ralph Riff, the doughy douche, got in bed with the wrong people.
They’ll be used and then taken out.
Puppets who think they’re puppet masters.
I don’t fucking feel for them at all.
One thing I know they do is unforgivable in my books. In De Luca’s books. They run drugs courtesy of the gangs and cartels selling and Henders elaborate ways which I wouldn’t give a fuck about. Except they know it goes to kids. Pick up the right floral displays, divvy it up, and get the younger gang initiatives hooked and selling to their peers and younger.
As I said, unforgivable.
I go to call Nadie but stop myself. She doesn’t need me hounding her.
Getting on my bike, I slide the phone away and put on my helmet. I still have no idea about the Lowlanders and O’Grady in this growing ring of crime. One can be involved independently of the other, if it’s certain Lowlander affiliates who do what they want as long as they don’t cross the Irishman.
But I head to RoadSide. O’Grady should be warned because I think with Ralph and his little group’s work, and the overwhelming number of 86s members working at the dealership and the furniture store as delivery muscle, it seems like they’re readying to take more territory for themselves.
If there are affiliates of O’Grady looking to make some bank on his outfit’s name, then he needs to know.
He’s in Ireland, but someone there will be able to reach him, and I’m thinking the new bartender and probably bar manager, the only new one I saw talking to him will be able to pass the message on.
He looks at me and swears. “Dumb fucks. I’ll pass it along. He won’t be happy.”
I know better to ask about him setting up shop here. This guy won’t tell me. He’s loyal.
“This place,” he says, “yeah, it’s small, but the 86s weren’t ever that bad. Don’t know what happened, but taking over messes shit up. Already, I’m seeing some really nasty types. I grew up a few towns away, and—” He stops, hitting the bar with the bar towel. “There are ecosystems, man. It’s that fuckin’ football has been, I know it. Came here to greet O’Grady to get him to invest. He might have muttered something about protection and buying that. He’s lucky O’Grady didn’t shoot him for annoying him.”
I think I like O’Grady.
After thanking the guy, I head to town, intending to get food to make for dinner. Something sweet for Nadie since she likes dark chocolate, but never gets it for herself.
Anger bubbles in me. Gangs like the 86s are now spread and run everything, ruining this place. No one will be safe. It’s fucking enough to burn things to the ground my way just to keep Nadia safe.
“Calm down . . .”
Easier said than done. But I park and take off my helmet and start to head to the grocery store when two cops appear. Guns drawn and pointed at me.
These jerks are clearly a higher pay grade than the other two.
“Diego Gael Fernandez?”
