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Glancing to my side, I notice Smoke glaring at Fat Mike, almost daring him to make a move.
“Tick called me—”
“The president of the Jackals?” Dodger interrupts.
“Yes,” he grinds out, obviously annoyed. “After talking for a while, I’ve decided it’s going to be in our best interest to merge the two clubs.”
“What the fuck?!”
“Absolutely not!”
“How is that a good idea?!”
Voices shoot out like bullets around me, everyone getting more pissed by the minute. Tick is known for his violent and deadly nature. Joining them wouldn’t just be a bad idea. It would mean death to the Wicked Rogues.
Holding up a hand, I wait until everyone quiets before focusing on Fat Mike. “And why would you think that would be in the club’s best interest?”
“Well…” He drags the word out, like I’m an idiot. “They’re a bigger club. They have more money and deal with more lucrative businesses. Whywouldn’tit be a good idea to join them?”
“Maybe because they’re a group of psychopaths,” Smoke spits out. “Maybe because some of thoselucrative businessesyou mentioned are rumored to be human trafficking, black market shit. I’m sure there are more reasons, but I think those are enough.”
Fat Mike sneers at him. “Worried about a little illegal business, Smoke? How the fuck do you thinkwe’vebeen making our money? Selling candy?”
“There’s ahugedifference between selling guns and selling people! I refuse to be aligned with anyone who thinks they’re the same.”
“Andthat…” Fat Mike jabs a finger at Smoke, “shows how weak you are. This whole club is infested with pansies. Well, not as many as there used to be.” He and his followers laugh, then he turns to Freddie. “We took care of that, didn’t we?”
“We sure did.”
“The fuck you guys say?” I ask. Subconsciously, I knew they had been getting rid of members. A part of me hoped there was another explanation. That he hadn’t gone to that extreme. Guess I now know the truth.
“I’ve been meaning to get rid of the dead weight around here for a while now. Even if Tick hadn’t told me I had to get rid of some ‘problem areas’ in order to merge, I would have done it anyway.”
“So… What? You chased them off, got some put in jail, what?” Dodger growls.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Fix edge around our group, eyes fixed on the men in front of us. He holds his gun in his right hand, grip relaxed, but I know how fast he can aim and shoot.
“It definitely started like that.” Fat Mike’s rough voice drew my attention back to him. “But there were a few who just didn’t want to fucking leave. So…” He shrugs. “I took care of them.”
“Meaning?” I ask.
“I promised Tick I’d get rid of the trash. So whoever I couldn’t frame or convince to leave, I put two rounds into their head and called it a day.”
The nonchalant way he says it makes my blood boil.
“Who?” Stress demands. “Who did you kill?”
He waves a hand through the air. “It doesn’t matter. They’re gone. Hell, I don’t even think I can remember.” Glancing at Freddie, he chuckles. “Do you?”
“Naw. Didn’t really care enough to. Idoknow there were a few who decided to leave and I ended up killing ‘em anyway.” He smirks. “Figured they were the type who’d cause problems down the line. Decided to be proactive and take care of them before they became an issue.”
As soon as the last word was out of Freddie’s mouth, chaos erupts. I can’t even make out who says what, there’s so much yelling. Then it happened…
A gunshot. A grunt of pain.
Dodging to the side, I yank out my gun as I land on the ground behind the picnic table.
Angry shouts and sounds of running let me know everybody is ducking for cover. With only a few trees and some tables around us, that is hard to do. Glancing to my left, I spot Smoke on the ground, hand on his thigh, face scrunched up in pain, blood seeping between his fingers.
