“Brother, you help us out and you’ll be welcome here every damn time you’re in town. You’ll be drowning in pussy.”
“So you guys need to start shipping some stuff?”
“Nah, not start. We’re already up and running, but the prez ain’t happy with how shit’s going right now. Guys we’re using are too slow. It’s fucking with our bottom line.”
“All right,” Screw said as he pursed his lips as though giving it some serious thought. “We talking a big time commitment on my part? You need to move a lot of shit? This something that needs to be done on the down low? And who are you using now? There are some shitty companies out there which is why we do all our own shipments.”
With a laugh, Squirt held up his hands. “Shit, simmer down. I’m glad you’re taking this seriously, but I ain’t supposed to be telling you anything. Can’t give you much in the way of details.”
He’d come on too strong. What he really wanted to do was shake Squirt until the information fell out. He lifted his hands. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to put you in a bad position. Just think this could really be a good thing for me. I can use the extra cash for sure. Just want be prepared when Crank approaches me.”
“Fuck.” Squirt rubbed his hands together. “Okay, but I didn’t tell you fuck all, got it? I ain’t risking my patch to line your pockets.”
“Of course not. I’ll play dumb when I talk to Crank.”
Squirt sniffed, wiped his nose, then nodded. “As of now, we’re making runs to Knoxville twice a week, Monday and Thursday. We bring out shit to this mom and pop shipping company called Cranston.”
Screw made a mental note of the name and dates. “Yeah, I heard of ’em.”
Nodding, Squirt continued. “They were struggling and jumped at the chance when they saw the amount Crank was willing to pay them. Anyway, we bring stuff twice a week and they ship it out for us, split up over four trucks. Two go up to New York where they’re picked up by our partners and two go down to Miami. You guys ship there?”
“All the fucking time.”
“Good, that’s reeeal good.” Squirt said with a smile.
Screw could practically see the guy imagining himself strutting around with his CDMC bottom rocker. He didn’t give a shit if the guy got patched in or not, but it wasn’t going to happen here in Tennessee. That was for damn sure. Screw would do everything in his power to drive these guys out of town. No one fucked with his family.
“Yo, prospect, get the fuck over here,” one of the patched members yelled from about fifteen feet away.
“I’m out. Go find yourself some pussy.”
“Later, man.” He slapped Squirt on the shoulder. “And thanks.”
Squirt ran off to do his club’s bidding, leaving Screw at the bar alone with a smirk on his face. Hadn’t been too long ago that he’d been a prospect. Not long enough for the memories of being tortured by his now brothers to have faded. Thank God that phase of life had ended.
Gumby still hadn’t returned to the pool table, so Screw took a second to finish his beer and assess his next move. He now had enough information to fuck with the CDMC’s weapons shipment.
Mission accomplished. Risk well worth it. But it was time to get the fuck outta there before their luck ran out. He set his empty cup on the bar then started in the direction Gumby had gone. He took two steps then froze in his tracks.
Locked in a shock-filled stare from across the room, stood Jeremy, Jazmine’s fuckwad of a neighbor. The same Jeremy who went to high school with Screw, dishing out homophobic slurs every chance he got. The same Jeremy who loved nothing more than to regale Screw with tales of his mother dancing on stage.
The same Jeremy who tried to prospect with the Handlers three times and had been denied based on Screw’s word alone. To say they hated each other was like saying an orgasm felt all right.
Understatement of the century.
Jeremy caved first, his eyes shifting to where Crank stood across the room, laughing with a group of his brothers. The grin that curled Jeremy’s smarmy fucking mouth was so goddamned sinister, nerves dove down Screw’s spine.
The very second Jeremy twitched in Crank’s direction, Screw sprang into action. He charged forward through the crowd, ramming unsuspecting partiers out of the way with his heavy shoulders as he ran. More than one drunkenly squealed curse followed him, and he was pretty sure he straight up knocked a club whore over. Maybe she’d get lucky and end up banging whatever guy caught her before she landed on her ass.
Jeremy was moving quick but not quick enough. “Hey, man!” he said in an excited tone as he slung his arm around the back of Jeremy’s neck. Quick as lightning, he hooked his elbow and brought his forearm across the guy’s throat cutting off his ability to shout for assistance. Thankfully, everyone was so damned wasted no one seemed to notice Screw dragging Jeremy to the side of the room.