Making the Cut (Saving Dallas 2)
Page 69
I called Dallas’s phone and Jenn answered, letting me know that Dallas and Brooklyn were passed out drunk in the living room floor, wearing nothing but smiles. Another fucking night of visions of Dallas naked and nothing I could do about it. It seemed Dallas had spent her time away from me getting drunk. If I called too late at night, chances are she was already passed out. Two brothers from Lake Charles were staying at the clubhouse to look after the girls and I prayed that they didn’t walk inside. I would never hear the end of it, if they did.
Morning came and we rolled out, Ronnie and I leading the pack. We would be in Texas today, a territory I was too familiar with. I had made the decision to call an old connection and schedule a meet to see if I could get some eyes in the area. This guy was old school, a friend of my Pops and he didn’t like doing business over the phone. He didn’t too much like me either, or the fact that I put a stop to my club making runs for him. The money was good, but the risk was too high. When we had enough money to invest in something legit, I pulled us away from the illegal shit that was consuming our lives. So far, it was working, but I knew this guy would want favors that I wasn’t ready to give.
Charlie Lott was a man you didn’t fuck with. When in his presence, you didn’t speak unless you were spoken to. He was the meanest, coldest, most arrogant motherfucker I knew and could have a whole block wiped out with just a nod of his head. Me and Charlie had an understanding back in the day. I did the dirty work and he supplied the cash. When he asked me to do a hit and I refused, shit changed. Charlie called me a pussy, and the two little words ‘fuck you’ slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I stood my ground, and for some reason, he let me live. Asking Charlie for help was like asking the Devil for a glass of ice water. You had to really want it and be prepared for an answer that you didn’t want. But Charlie got offended if you didn’t come to him, and nobody offended Charlie.
The meet was in a field off of a dusty road out in the middle of nowhere. It was exactly the kind of place I expected and the one that made me the most nervous. If ever I doubted one of my brothers’ loyalties, I didn’t now. They all knew what we were getting into, yet they rode behind me, ready for what the fuck ever Charlie had to offer. MC’s were beneath Charlie, or so he thought. He considered us his bitches, and I was okay with that, if it meant he would lead me to Frankie, and hopefully the whereabouts of War.
We pulled up and only one SUV with two people inside was there. I knew they weren’t alone though. There was a sniper somewhere nearby, maybe three or four of them that had a red dot centered on my head. Charlie never travelled alone, and I didn’t blame him. Killing a man like him would give you so much street credit that you would never have to ask for anything again. People would willingly give you anything you desired. Charlie stepped out, looking just as I remembered him. He wore a suit that I was sure was made by some fucking designer in some fucking country that no one else had. His white hair was slicked back on his head and a big cigar dangled from his fingers. The biggest black man that I had ever seen stepped out of the driver’s seat and joined him. He wore an earpiece like he was in the CIA or some shit and a suit that matched the one Charlie wore. Some people would say they looked sharp and intelligent. I think they looked fucking ridiculous.
“Luke,” Charlie said, walking towards me and putting his long, cold hand that had a diamond ring on every finger out for me to shake. I nodded my head at him and shook his hand firmly.
“It’s been a long time, Charlie.” Not long enough.
“I hear you are looking for a man that goes by the name of Frankie. I also hear he killed one of your men, put one in the hospital, hung your woman in a barn and assaulted her and kidnapped another one. Is that right?” I saw a glimmer of hope in his eye that maybe his comment about Dallas would fuck with my head. He wouldn’t get the pleasure.
“That’s right,” I said, my voice even and holding no emotion. Charlie could read body language like a book and I had learned to control my breathing and keep my stance casual around him. The comment about War wasn’t proven true yet, but telling him would be irrelevant. He was the type that would kill him if he was alive, just so that his assumptions would be true.