Benny looks up from the paperwork, and shoves it all into the back of his jeans. But when his hand comes out, there’s a gun attached. His cheeks puff angrily, and a guttural growl emerges from his throat.
Fuck.
My gun is drawn before I even realize I went for it, and the sound of clicking metal rides through my ears as a wave of us do the same. Just like hundreds of times in the past, we’re facing the Hell Breathers, both sides refusing to lower their weapons as we wait on a reason to shoot.
But Benny doesn’t hold his gun on me like I expected. It’s pointed toward the head of his FBI informant, and I hear Sledge exhale in relief.
The guy’s eyes go wide as he stares at Benny in shock, feigning innocence. Everyone around him steps wide, distancing themselves from the crazy shit.
“What are you doing?” the rat gasps, gingerly holstering his gun as a show of submission.
Stupid move. He might as well take out some of the bastards and go down in a blaze of glory. No one has pride anymore. Or balls for that matter.
My eyes rake over the newest member of our crew, and I fight the urge to shake my head in disbelief. My dad will ruin her if she’s really just some girl down on her luck who had to make a deal with the devil. I half wonder if she really doesn’t know about what her father did.
The question is… What’s the deal she made with Benny?
“What do you mean, Jeff?” Benny hisses, reminding me there’s about to be blood spilled. “Is this scaring you, Jeff? Or maybe you’d prefer to be called Adam Mason.”
I don’t have to look at the scene to know the fed’s eyes have widened in terror. His heart is probably ready to explode. More than likely, he’s on the verge of pissing his pants.
“B-Benny, don’t—” Two shots silence him, but Benny doesn’t stop until he’s emptied the magazine.
My eyes have stayed on the girl, gauging her every reaction as she watches the fed go down. There’s no way to fake that reaction, which I actually find amusing. She’s terrified and… sick.
“Ah, hell,” Sledge groans as the girl vomits, bending over as she loses it.
Her whole body is pale and shaking as she responds to what she probably considers a traumatic experience. It still doesn’t prove that she’s not being put here to spy on us, but maybe we can use her to learn more about Benny. She’s weak, and the weak are easy to break.
Maybe instead of ruining her, we can use her. Obviously she’s close to Benny if she came to him, which would definitely fall under the category of spy. We can turn her, and Benny’s little plan will backfire.
“Where’d you find her?” I ask, looking back toward Benny as he curses the fed’s body that lies still in a pool of his own blood.
He spits on the fed’s corpse, and turns back to me as some of his guys take a few shots at the dead man as well.
“She grew up with my boy. She needed money, I needed this, and your father wants peace. It’s a winning situation all around.”
So he definitely knew Marks. This just raises more suspicion.
How much money does it take to have a girl hand over her body for life? It’s not like the money is going to do her much good, unless she’s expecting to be set free by Benny. Until we turn her on Benny, she’ll never get to go anywhere or do anything—besides warm my father’s bed.
That thought doesn’t settle well with me now. And I really don’t like the fact that I don’t like it. It’s hard to ignore the sour taste in my mouth.
This is our world, and I signed on for it a long time ago. Then again… Pop doesn’t need to take chances. If she’s supposed to be a token of peace, it doesn’t have to be Pop’s bed. Pop prefers the wild ones, anyhow.
Then again, so do I.
But if there’s even a chance she might be up to something, Pop doesn’t need to risk it. I’m not ready to lead the club yet, and I’m sure there are several from his second crew that would raise hell if the position fell to me prematurely. The last thing we need is a war within the outfit.
And if she is up to something shady, I can always fuck it out of her. Since she knows what she signed on for.
My smile grows as she staggers backwards, shielding her eyes from what’s left of the gory remains.
Stepping away from all the fun and moving out of earshot, I pull out my phone, dialing my father while keeping my eyes alert.
“What’s she like?” Pop asks by way of greeting, and my eyes rake back over the body of the sweet girl.