“We get it,” Rock assures me.
“Eventually, I brought the two main factions to a truce. Anyone not affiliated with either of them, fell in with me. Ain’t saying we sat around a campfire holding hands and making s’mores together but we kept the peace. Guards appreciated it—gave ’em more time for naps and shit. And it gave us more leeway.”
“That couldn’t have been easy,” Dex mutters.
“It wasn’t. But by the time I returned to Pine for the rest of my sentence, I’d crafted a delicate balance inside. Kept myself at the top of the food chain.” This last part’s important. I wait a beat before delivering this reminder. “And I kept the club out of it.”
“You know we would’ve done anything to help,” Wrath says.
“There wasn’t much you could do from the outside. And you didn’t want to get tangled up with inside business. It’s a tricky web in and out. Some gangs work together on the inside, but they’re sworn enemies outside.”
Rock intertwines his fingers on the table in front of him and sits forward but doesn’t say a word.
“That peaceful coexistence you brokered went out the window when Broadbent Crew’s shot caller got sentenced, right?” Dex asks.
“It did.” Dex and I had spoken about this—as much as we could—when it happened.
“Those assholes,” Murphy grumbles. “Had no business stepping foot in New York.”
“Big Chief shouldn’t have been able to get near you,” Rock says.
Should’ve known Rock pays attention to everything.
“He couldn’t.” I roll my shoulder. “But he started upsetting the balance. Since I knew the club didn’t want any of the action, I made plans to hand it off once I got out.”
I’ve got everyone’s full attention now.
“It should’ve been split between GSC and Little Reds. They have better distribution. Minute Squad came into play and had some small responsibilities.”
“This who you wanted to send the money to? The ones you turned it over to?” Rock asks. His tone’s completely neutral, so devoid of emotion, I’d be concerned—if I still feared death.
“No. Those guys are both unaffiliated. Not cut out for the life. Money will keep ’em out of the crosshairs.” I slap my hands together in front of me to drive home the point I want to make. “I walked out completely separated from any business going on inside. GSC and Reds knew I was out. They knew better than to fuck with us on the outside.”
“I should hope so,” Murphy mutters.
I continue without answering his comment. “If they wanted to bring anyone else to the table, that was on them.”
Wrath turns toward Rock. “How involved you think Loco is in this?”
Rock shrugs. “He’s never brought it up. So either he stays out of prison business like we do, or he didn’t have any issues with how it was being handled. Fuck knows he’s got no problem annoying me when he needs something.”
“He’s been a good friend to the club,” Teller reminds him.
Rock turns slowly, settling his frosty stare on Teller. “Did I say otherwise?”
“Just stating a fact.” Teller holds his hands in the air even as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“Cool story, kids. Can I go on?” I ask, not bothering to hide my irritation.
Ignoring me, Rock glances at Wrath. “I’m thinking we should give Z a call.”
“Not yet.” Wrath shakes his head.
Apparently satisfied with his enforcer’s answer, Rock sits back. “Continue.”
“When I got home tonight, I had a surprise visitor. Not someone I recognized.” I slap the piece of paper the kid had given me on the table. “Big Chief apparently thinks I work for him on the outside.”
“Fuck.” Rock closes his eyes. “They had a shakeup as soon as you left.”
“Sounds like it.”
“A few more of his crew were sentenced right before Grinder got out,” Dex says.
Rock casts a sideways glance at Murphy. “Seems like something my VP should’ve been aware of.”
Murphy’s ginger eyebrows crawl up his forehead. “Am I supposed to monitor the courts for every criminal going into the system?”
“Set up a Google alert,” Wrath suggests with a smirk.
“Google this, dick.” Murphy flips him off.
“Simmer down.” Rock unfolds the paper and scans the few lines. “What is this? A drop?”
“Don’t know. Little punk didn’t provide much information.”
Wrath plucks the paper out of Rock’s hands. “Shit. This is Demon territory. We can’t be anywhere near whatever it is.”
“I can’t be near it no matter what,” I remind him.
“Easy.” Rock’s let’s-coddle-Grandpa tone doesn’t do much to calm me. “Most important thing right now, is that you need protection—”
“I can’t have any of you at my apartment in case my P.O. shows up. And I can’t stay here overnight.”
“Fuck,” Wrath groans. “This motherfuckin’ P.O. wasn’t supposed to be so much of a pain in the ass.”
“You can’t be left unprotected,” Rock insists. “We don’t know who they’ll send next.”
“I think we know a few people out that way who could assist us,” Dex suggests.