Page 9 of His Queen

“Whereto,boss?”Thedriver asks, as we near the center of the district. He slides in a clip and pulls the hammer back so there’s one in the chamber.

“Le Moineau’s,the Sparrow’s,will be the first group we force to fall to their knees. The foot clan has numbers. We can not risk them falling in line with disloyalty. I will teach them to fear their new king of the streets, or pay in blood.“ I snarl.

“Christian, are you fucking mad? You’re starting a war with Le Moineau’s is a waste of your time. They can’t defend themselves against our men. They don’t stand a chance.”

“That’s the fucking point, Clay. I’m reclaiming the city. They can fall in line or they can cease to exist. The fate is theirs to choose. The Don father has taught me it’s the most valuable bargaining tool. Free will must always be an option, but not all the options need to have an equal outcome.” I sigh, fighting back memories from the day I left for France. I had free will once, but I stupidly thought free will also meant freedom. Boy, was I wrong. If I could go back and tell younger me it’s not worth it, and that the road to salvation is so much easier if you stop fighting, I would. One day I will get my revenge. The Don is not exempt from retribution. He too must pay atonement for his sins. His torture is having to live everyday knowing that one day I will come for him, and when I do, it will be the end.

“What’s the plan, Christian? What are we going to do?” Clay asks, his nerves written all over his face.

“I smile. We are going to show no fear,” I answer, clapping him on the back. “If they refuse to fall in line, well then, we will show them no mercy. Do you understand Clay?”

“I understand. I’ll let Harvey know you had zero issues turning it off and becoming a suicidal lunatic.”

I tsk Clay, shaking my head at him. “Where’s your faith, buddy?”

The driver interrupts our back-and-forth exchange to let us know we are about to arrive at the bar where the leader of the sparrows spends most of his time. “Boss, when we arrive, am I flanking you or watching the car?” He asks, seeking an order from me.

“Watch the car, unless it looks like we might be in trouble. If things get rough, use some of these,” I say, reaching into the box of weapons I keep in the backseat, and pulling out some tear gas bombs.

He smiles, delighted to be of assistance. I hand one to Clay and slip one in my pocket in case we get split up. I also pocket a smaller bomb and slide it in next to the other. It’s my insurance policy. A way to guarantee I make it home to Quinn at the end of the night.

The driver parks, the second car parks down the street with its lights off, and together Clay and I step out of the car. The guy watching the door yells inside and three more guys come running out.

“Christian, to what do we owe the pleasure?” one of the men croons with a taunting smile.

“Where’s your boss?” Clay barks at him. “We aren’t here to see you. We came to see him.”

“See him you will,” he replies, “but you’ll have to come inside. He’s a busy man. You used to know what that was like right, Christian, before you got your head buried so far up the Don’s little spawn. Back when you actually got your hands dirty.”

Clay takes a step forward ready, to beat the fuck out of this guy for running his mouth, but my arm flies out to stop him. “Wait Clay, I’ve got this.”

“Yes, wait Clay. Daddy will take care of you. Hopefully, better than his last man. I heard he’s six feet under with the rest of your team. Pity, we were all so concerned when we heard what Le Manchot did.” He’s taunting me, but what he doesn’t realize is I am not the same man as I was when I left the house this morning. Harvey challenged me to embrace who I am. He reminded me why I must always continue to fight. If I want Quinn, if I want the debt the Don owes to me, then I can never stop proving myself as capable.

I pull my gun from the holster beneath my suit jacket, aiming it at the one running his mouth. “Go inside, get your boss, and tell him to hurry it the fuck up. I don’t have time for these games, and I am running out of patience. You want to run your mouth and flap your jaws, go be a good little messenger.”

I pull the trigger. The bullet strikes him right in the kneecap and he drops. “Thank you for recognizing me as the king of the streets. I suggest the rest of you find your place, or would you like my help with kneeling?”

The others fall in line. Grown men drop to their knees in front of me, lowering their gaze to the ground.

“Now, go get your boss!” I shout angrily.

Applause rings out from behind them. “No need, Christian. I’m right here. You have my full attention.” He replies, stepping into view.

“Is this the kind of insubordination you allow on your watch?” I bark at him in a menacing tone.

He runs his hand through his hair nervously. “I can assure you he will be dealt with.” He snaps his fingers, nodding in the direction of the man I shot when two goons arrive. “Not to worry, they have a way with reconditioning men, who don’t share the same views as the rest of us.”

I know he’s lying. The negativity has already settled in the lowest of our chain. It’s exactly why we are starting at the bottom. In hopes that more will see the examples made of the expendable servants, declaring their loyalty before it’s put to the test.

“I’m sure you understand that while Arkham appreciates your effort to recondition your men, we don’t let insubordination go unpunished. You will raise your monthly contribution by twenty percent. This is your retribution, the price you pay to atone for your mistakes. Are we clear?”

The man is no longer full of smiles. His face falls at the realization of what I just said sinks in. “I understand. What if we won’t be squeezed by Arkham and refuse to pay?” He asks, pushing his luck.

“Then Le Moineau are expendable. Arkham will no longer offer its protection and you will find yourselves to have a new enemy. How many men are you willing to lose?” I pull the bomb from my pocket and twirl it around in my fingers.

He gasps, tumbling to the ground. On his knees, he pleas, “My deepest apologies, Christian. The Sparrows are here to serve Arkham. There’s no need to question our allegiance to the Don Father. We will pay our retribution in exchange for peace and protection.”

I snicker, glancing at Clay with a raised eyebrow. He gives me a playful shrug, interested in what more I can come up with to prove my point.

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