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I warned Eyeball and his buddies to either vote yes, or shut the fuck up and abstain. Eyeball knew from picking me up the morning of Venus’s murder that something was up, so he kept his mouth closed.
That was how Benjy got patched in, which definitely cheered him up – for a while. Two months later, I overheard him drunk in the corner of the Roadhouse crying about how he was “so sorry, Ali, so sorry…”
Okay, that shit really had to stop.
Short of killing him, I figured there was one other way: get him laid. I paid a high end call girl from LA to hit on him at a bar, take him home, and show him the time of his life. Next morning he was back in love, and all was right with the world – until she never called. More heartbreak… that is, until I paid the next hooker to blow him. Three months and a steady string of whores later, and Venus was completely forgotten.
It put a dent in my pocketbook, but hell, you can’t put a price on true love, right?
It lasts forever… until the next good lay comes around.
130
There was one other loose end in the whole thing: the DEA.
I was a paranoid motherfucker for the next three months. Always looking over my shoulder, checking my rearview to see if I was being followed – but nothing ever materialized. No strange cars tailing me, no busts, no new guys in town looking to patch into the MC.
It started to make me question whether she’d actually been talking to them in the first place. Maybe that dog and pony show she put on for Jack really was for a drug dealer who wanted to horn in on our territory.
Or maybe she really had been telling Benjy the truth in Vegas about working with another gang. Who knows – maybe the Santa Muertes? I’d made plans with Rodrigo, after all –but maybe he wanted the whole pie instead of just a piece.
In the end, though, nothing ever came of it – so what did it matter who she’d been talking to? As long as the situation stayed the way it was, I didn’t give two shits about Venus and her little drama parade. It was all over, I was free, and the future was looking up.
Now all I had to do was get rid of Jack Pollari.
Which I did, without having to fire a shot.
Well, not at him, anyways.
Venus was dead, the two scumbags I’d hired were dead – but Benjy wasn’t. Those dipshits had fucked that one up good.
Meanwhile, a good-looking PI bitch from LA had come sniffing around, trying to find out who killed her cousin…
…and everything wound up in a showdown in front of a meth lab in the desert.
131
Fiona
Istood there frozen in shock.
No – this couldn’t be right –
Benjy?
The simpleminded, sweet guy who’d been shot the night of the armed robbery?
“Bullshit!” Jack yelled, enraged. “You’re lying!”
“Tell him,” Lou said to Benjy, gesturing with the gun. “Tell them the truth.”
When Benjy looked back at us, his eyes were afraid – but there was more shame and guilt in his face than there was fear.
That was when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt.
It was like someone had hit me in the stomach with a baseball bat.
Benjy’s mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear him.
