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were a big piece of the DEA’s puzzle… well then, it made sense to get rid of that piece as soon as possible. Maybe then the puzzle couldn’t be finished.
If I did it soon enough, there’d be no need to give Sloane an inch of land.
And something told me that Sloane might be playing both sides of the fence. If that were the case, then taking Jack out early removed the possibility of her double-crossing me.
In fact, if we hit Sloane, too, then the Bastards would fall apart. Tyler was a fuckin’ puppet. It was her hand up his ass, makin’ his mouth move. Without Sloane, he’d fall to pieces. Arizona would be easy pickins. I could do the Santa Muertes a solid, increase territory for sales, and remove a competitor, all in one fell swoop.
Get Einstein a real goddamn lab… put it somewhere in Richards and have Peters keep his cops away from it… hell, we could be pushing a hundred pounds of crystal a week.
All I had to do was get rid of Jack Pollari.
I picked up my cell phone and dialed.
“Yeah?” Eyeball answered.
I could hear music behind him – the same tune that was thumping dimly through my office walls – so he was either somewhere in the club or outside having a smoke.
Excellent.
“Get in here. Who’s with you that I can trust?”
“Cowboy, Chuck, and Wild Bill.”
“Bring them, too. I got a little errand for you.”
68
Jack
The first thing I did when we got back to the house was to call Kade and fill him in. I told him all about the meeting with Sloane and what we’d planned.
There was a long silence from him before he answered. “I think from now on, you should check with me BEFORE you go do crazy shit.”
“Next time, I’ll get you in on the ground floor. But for now, this is the play.”
“Alright. How was it seeing her again?”
“Spent more time keeping her hands off my crotch than actually talking business.”
“So… same old Sloane.”
I laughed. “Yeah. Same old Sloane.”
To tell the truth, it had been complicated. She was looking good, although I wish she hadn’t got her tits done. I liked her all natural. But she was still the same sex bomb as always, and I couldn’t help but be affected by it. Sloane radiated sex like a car engine gives off heat on a hundred degree day.
On the other hand, I remembered all the fights when I decided to take the club legit. All the screaming, all the plates thrown at me and smashing against the walls.
And all the fucking manipulation. The act in the motel room had only been half real. Yeah, she wanted to fuck – she always wanted to fuck – but she wanted me under her thumb, too. That was the thing about Sloane: she wanted to control men, and she’d do it any way she could, whether through sex, money, or pure fucking intimidation. Knowing that took a lot of the hotness out of the situation.
Plus, I’d had Fiona standing right there next to me.
That was a weird situation. It was over between me and Fiona; I’d accepted that. After she found out I’d paid off Peters to stall Ali’s murder investigation, there was no way she’d ever touch me again.
But I still wanted her. Sleeping with her last night had been a mistake… but god damn, what a way to go out. And now that I couldn’t have her, I wanted her all the more.
That was the thing: I could have Sloane whenever I wanted, and that made her less appealing. I couldn’t ever touch Fiona again, and now she was all I could think about.
Not to mention that what I’d had with Sloane wasn’t real. Or, at least, it was based on sex and drinking and drugs and blood money and power. That was fine when I was an outlaw biker – but once I decided I didn’t want those last three things, Sloane lost interest, and I saw how little we really had in common.
