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“If you play nice, you mean.”
He cocked his head like, Yeah. That’s exactly right.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” I seethed.
“I’ve been called that before.”
For a few seconds, I actually thought about taking him up on his offer. The possibility of turning down all that information made my guts churn.
But in the end, the price was too high.
I didn’t think Jack was a bad guy, and I wasn’t about to sell him down the river to a government asshole trying to strong-arm me.
“I’ll pass,” I said.
Eddie’s face darkened. “You’re making a mistake.”
“Yeah, but it’s my mistake to make. Shut the door on the way out.”
He sighed. “I was hoping you’d be a bit more cooperative than this.”
“Too bad.”
“If you don’t choose to help me voluntarily… then I’m going to have to persuade you.”
I stared at him. “Are you threatening me?”
He gave me a patronizing little smile. “No. I’m suggesting an alternate way of looking at the circumstances.”
Oh my God… I swear, if I had my .38, and if he wasn’t a DEA agent…
Fuck the .38.
I’d just break out the Krav Maga and snap both his wrists.
“Fuck you. You’ve got no leverage on me.”
“I could expose you. To the club. Tell them why you’re really here.”
22
Jack
Ilaunched a punch at him first, but Lou was fast. Back in the day he’d been a bare knuckle brawler. Word is he’d royally fucked up a couple of guys during his stay in San Quentin, years before I came to the club.
Me hitting him in the desert? He’d let that happen. There had been an audience, and he had basically orchestrated it all for effect.
Now there was no audience, and the fucker didn’t want to get tapped.
He sidestepped at the last second. My fist whistled just past his cheek.
“You stupid shit,” he snarled, and let loose with a left to my gut.
I felt the punch – he hit hard – but by that time I was closer to him.
WHAM! Left to the side of his head. He bobbed at the end, so I hit his ear rather than his temple, but it was a solid connection.
He staggered backward.
