Morning came with a painful reminder of why I don’t drink before a job anymore, and why I don’t drink anything that costs less than four figures a bottle. But there was a sweet little thing in the kitchen pouring coffee and grilling up bacon and I wasn’t disappointed to wake up to the smell of food.
“It’s almost time Pres, we got everything loaded up in the van, who’s riding?” A muscular, clean-shaven guy no shorter than six-five marched through the kitchen. I didn’t remember seeing him last night, but then again, I didn’t make the effort to strike up a conversation with anyone here but the man in charge. His hair was cut short all the way around with a fade to the scalp in the back. He had the word MUERTE tattooed on his throat and his entire arms were blacked out in tattoos from what I could see. He was an intimidating motherfucker, and he knew it too. No one tattooed death on their neck if they didn’t feel close to it.
“I thought we could talk this morning,” I said to Cézar as I sipped my coffee.
“You’ve got some bad timing boys, Calaveras, and I’ve got plans today that can’t wait,” he said, getting up from his chair, shoving the last few bites of his breakfast down. “You’re welcome to stay here and wait though. Unless…” He trailed off looking at the grim reaper standing in front of the door. The guy shook his head at him as if he knew exactly where his president’s head was at, as they communicated in silence.
“Or you can help me out, earn a favor from the Diablos, maybe even get some of that information you’re after.” He stood waiting for us to answer as he baited me with what I needed. I looked at Mateo who tilted his head at me. I knew what he was thinking, we came all the way out here, might as well play the bastard’s games.
“What’s the job?” Kane asked the question for me.
“It’s a drive out a few hours, got to set some things right,” he answered vaguely but Mateo wasn’t satisfied, and neither was I.
“We aren’t riding into something blindly, you either tell us all the details or count us out.” He crossed his arms as he waited for an answer and the guy named Calaveras stepped in closer.
“I’ve got a rogue President a few states over who needs his patch stripped like a hotel bed. Grimm’s Reach is the founding chapter of the Diablos Locos, which means it’s my duty as President to make sure all chapters stay in line. If someone’s doing dirty, I’ve gotta keep it in check, either the whole chapter goes down, or the President does,” he explained.
“What’s too dirty for a one percent club?” I asked with genuine curiosity. I thought the whole point of being branded as outlaws was to not have any limits.
“We don’t deal in flesh, and we certainly don’t deal in kids. This motherfucker is doing both. I’ve got more than half his members holed up in our clubhouse spare rooms.” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and lit one in the office but tilted his chin towards the door to signal us to follow him out.
“And the other members of his club?” Kane asked, letting him know that detail didn’t go unnoticed.
“They apparently didn’t have a problem with it,” Cézar spits out through clenched teeth, and Calaveras put his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm down his president.
“So, no such thing as innocent bystanders then?” Mateo asked, and I followed where he was going. He wanted to know if there was a limit. If there was anyone, he couldn’t get rid of. He had a wildness dancing through his eyes, and I could tell he was out for blood tonight. She’d sunk her claws in him almost as deeply as they pierced through me, and he needed an outlet.
“Cannon fodder,” Calaveras spoke in a raspy unused voice that made me wonder if silence was his usual preference. “They go with La Flaquita tonight,” he put his index finger to his lips in a signal and winked at me even though I didn’t know what the hell that meant.
Mateo let out a loud whoop and I knew there was no chance I could hold on to his leash tonight. He had a lot of pent-up energy and aggression to let out and this was probably the best way for him to do it.
“I want a Bike,” he looked up at Calaveras, and Cézar chuckled at him.
“Better watch out Zerkos, or your boy might just cross over to the dark side.” He tossed keys in the air and Kane caught them with ease. “Calaveras will ride with you in the van.” He said to me, and I pressed my lips into a thin line, he was doing it again. He was making sure I had no way to get what I needed from him until the job was done, no chance of even leaving moments of silence in a car ride between us.
At the end of the day, Cézar Villalobos and I would always clash.
The fact that he held a piece of my girl’s heart I would never be able to understand, or claim for myself, made my resentment for him grow even stronger.