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“It’s a picture. On my bedroom wall.”
“Ohhhh, well, that’s so much better. What do you do, beat off to it at night before you go to sleep?”
I was angry – the dumb sonuvabitch was hanging up a picture of a murder victim on his goddamn wall.
A murder victim I could have done a lot of time for.
But it turns out Jack was angrier than me, for all the wrong reasons. He stared at me and cracked his knuckles with his thumb, one by one.
With each knuckle he popped, I wished I could pop a cap in the back of his head. It’d be so much easier. But then I’d have all his little sycophants to deal with, including that gorilla Kade. So I made a tactical retreat.
“Alright – alright, forget I said that.” I leaned forward and lowered my voice, like we were both in this together. (Ha. Right.) “But that was some bad fuckin’ times, man, and I do not see the wisdom in you keeping shit like that lying around.”
“It’s a picture. People have pictures.”
“Not of chicks they barely knew who got their brains blown out in an alleyway.”
I could see his temper was starting to boil again, so I eased off. “All I’m sayin’ is, we went to a lot of trouble to bury that shit.”
Meaning I went to a lot of trouble to bury that shit.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have,” he said morosely.
What a fucking idiot.
“You know as well as I do what she was planning to do,” I said.
Jack looked away, like the guilt was eating him alive.
Pussy.
He hadn’t done anything except fail to stop a cokehead from destroying the Riders, and yet here he was, sweating it out like a boy scout who’d shoplifted a candy bar.
“We shouldn’t have had the cops bury it,” he murmured.
It was so ridiculous it was funny.
“Haha – we shouldn’t’ve had the cops – Jesus.” I shook my head. “You’re a piece of work, you know that? The cops start pullin’ on one string, and suddenly it leads to another, and then the FBI and the DEA are in on it, and then you and me and every other guy in the Riders are left standing there with our dicks in our hands and a couple dozen laser sights on our foreheads. Shouldn’t’ve had the cops bury it, my ass.”
“That’s not the way we do things anymore.”
Cuz we’re legit.
Cuz we work INSIDE the law now.
Cuz we’re not outlaws anymore.
Waah, waah, waaaaah.
Suck my dick.
“Yeah, well… sometimes the old ways are the best ways,” I said.
Truer word was never spoke. But there was a way more important question here.
“Why the fuck was that bitch so interested in the photo, anyway?” I asked.
Jack looked at me like he wanted to strangle me. “Don’t talk about Fiona that way.”
