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“Slam that drink and follow me.”
Jennings tossed back the alcohol and shoved away from the bar. “Let’s go.”
Cole climbed off the stool, straightened to his full height and shouldered his way through the group to the back room.
Jennings had been in here only once before. The space was stacked with crates of alcohol. Today a folding table was set up in the center and two guys stood at it with open boxes in front of them. As he looked on, one man withdrew a bulky parcel from the box and placed it into an open duffel bag.
Cole waved toward them. “We need another packer.”
“I’m your guy.”
“Good. Show him what to do.” Cole walked out, leaving him to it.
Jennings took his place at the end of the line. The man next to him nudged a box his way. “Packs of ten in each bag.”
“You got it.” He’d handled more drugs on this op than any before this, and he was glad to have enough experience at it to keep his expression bland. He wasn’t shocked by much anymore, least of all drugs being loaded from crates into bags.
“Who gets the bags?” he asked in an offhanded manner.
One of the guys shrugged. “We pass them out to dealers. They choose where to distribute.”
“Got it.”
“When you pack Viper’s, don’t forget he gets twenty instead of ten.” The statement from the other man made Jennings pause.
Viper wouldn’t be distributing any parcels of drugs. Not when Sentry had sent cleaners to collect his body at the church in East Canon.
“Think he’ll show his face?” the first man asked.
“Yeah, why not? This is his contribution to the club.”
“He hasn’t been around in a couple days.”
Jennings looked between the guys. “Do you mean the skinny guy? Shorter than me? Has stringy-looking brown hair?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
He grunted. “I heard he couldn’t handle it. Took off.”
“No shit?”
“Seriously, man. I heard it down at Shadowlands.” He continued to fill the duffel, making sure the parcels of drugs were tightly packed before zipping it shut.
“Guess we don’t need that bag for Viper, then. I’m making the executive decision to give Viper’s cut to Freeman.” The guy looked at each of them. “What do ya say?”
“Sounds good to me.” Jennings shrugged and grabbed another bag off the stack.
Damn, that was the first lie he’d actually told since coming to the club. Rule was that you stuck as close to the truth as possible. Easier to lie that way.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t such a far stretch to say that Viper couldn’t handle it and took off. Just that he couldn’t handleJennings—and he’d taken off in a body bag.
In little time, they finished their task.
“Let’s go grab a drink. I could use one. Handling all that heroin makes me jones for something in my system.” The guys moved out ahead of Jennings.
He threw one more look at the corner, mentally counting the bags stacked there. Twenty-two by his estimate, and each one had ten parcels. All but the one meant for Freeman, who was now Viper’s replacement.
When he stepped into the main room, he sought out Wren. His gaze skimmed several women and landed on her.
