Judge (Shady Valley Henchmen 1)

The most I would ever get from her was sex.

I mean, not that I wanted more than that. That wasn’t how I was.

Even knowing how irrational it was, though, I couldn’t seem to shake the concern as we stood there waiting for our president to show up.

Which he did.

Almost an hour late.

Looking even more sleepless than the rest of us.

“They made us wait,” he said, shrugging as he loaded his bags into the SUV. “They can wait for us,” he added, turning to go toward the front seat.

And if I wasn’t entirely mistaken, those were some nail marks on the back of his neck.

Was the situation weird? Sure. Why not just fuck the woman in town, where it was easier?

But good for him regardless.

It was hard to keep your head on straight when you weren’t getting the pussy you wanted.

With that and nothing else, we were off, driving just outside of Vegas to a spot a lot less glamorous than its neighboring town.

It wasn’t the area that put me on-edge, though. I’d operated in plenty of downtrodden areas in the past.

There was just something… off.

“What’s up?” Crow asked when I paused to move forward.

“I don’t think this is going to go to plan,” I said, glancing over at him.

“Yo, Slash,” Crow called, not even hesitating in trusting my judgment.

“Yeah?”

“Judge has a weird feeling,” he said even as the front door to the building opened, and someone waved us forward.

“Yeah, can’t say I’m happy about this one either,” Slash admitted. “Didn’t have much intel on them, either,” he added as we kept walking toward the building. “Give Judge your bag,” he instructed to Crow.

I didn’t understand why as we made our way inside of the mostly-empty building.

All there was inside was a few cheap fold-up tables down the center, an old couch with its guts half exploding out, and a milk crate with a wireless speaker set up with a cell phone.

Even by criminal standards, it was pretty damn shabby.

The crew themselves weren’t looking much better. The drive-by had clearly hit at least three of them, judging by the visual bandages I could see.

They were a young crew, too.

If I had to place bets, I would say at least two of them weren’t even out of high school yet.

It was an unfortunate truth that in areas with minimal resources and no clear route to getting out of the poverty cycle, the streets sucked in kids early, often not spitting them out until they were dead or serving life sentences.

“You’ll excuse the accommodations,” the leader said, moving forward to distinguish himself from his crew.

He wasn’t old either. I’d put him in his mid-twenties with dark hair, green eyes, and a bandage over the side of his neck. Blood was starting to seep through the gauze, likely meaning he’d pulled his stitches, but hadn’t gone in to get them fixed.

“We don’t plan to be here long enough to care,” Slash said, taking a step forward as well, drawing everyone’s attention to him, likely taking in the scars on his face, which distracted them all from the fact that Crow had moved forward as well, positioning himself to the side a bit.

“Slash,” the leader greeted.

“That’s me. We got your product. Where’s the cash?”

The leader turned back to jerk his head toward one of his men who disappeared into a back room before coming back with a bag.

Doing the math in my head, unless they gave us all hundreds—and that seemed unlikely—that bag wasn’t big enough to hold all the cash.

“Judge,” Slash called, not taking his eyes off the leader.

I could see the change in him. His jaw was tight enough that a muscle ticked there. His shoulders had pulled back.

Because he knew what I knew about the cash.

I couldn’t help but wonder if the leader understood how much he’d fucked up yet.

“Yeah?” I asked, taking a step forward.

“Count it,” he demanded.

Apparently, the leader thought we were just dumb enough to take the trade and keep moving.

Snatching the bag out of the hand of one of the kids, I pulled it open to confirm my suspicions.

They were all twenties and smaller. Nowhere near the amount Slash would have agreed to.

“Nah, boss,” I said, shaking my head.

The look on Slash’s face was murderous as he stared down the leader.

“Hey, man, you made us wait this morning. You cost us money.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your business, asshole,” Slash growled at him. “You just lost yourself a deal,” he said, clearly testing the waters, seeing if they were just going to let us walk away.

They must have discussed a plan for this situation, because his men all reached for their guns.

Before any of us could do the same, though, Slash inexplicably tossed one of the gun bags toward Sway, who just immediately reached out for it.

I realized half a second later that it was a choreographed distraction.