Ice (Regulators MC 1)
Taking the package, I pull out my pocket knife. Having been stripped of our guns and knives entering the building, I am lucky to have kept this. If these men only knew what I could do with this two inch blade if pushed to my limits. Fuckers. Hell, I don’t need a small knife to kill the man if I wanted to; I could do that with my bare hands.
Slicing the package open, I dip the tip of my knife in. I scoop up only the slightest amount then lift it to my nose and inhale. The burn in my nasal passages is hard to stand, my eyes immediately glaze over in unshed tears.
“Sandoval, you have good reason to be cocky,” I state, letting him know I am impressed with his product.
He laughs at me. The man stands before me and laughs as if he has not one care in the world. If I get my way, he is going to have a shitload of stuff to worry about, including keeping his own useless hide alive.
“I like you very much, Ice. It’s refreshing to find a biker that won’t use more of my product than he sells. From your reaction, I can tell that you are not a user. This tells me the Regulators will go far in this business. Nothing irritates me more than someone being held back by chemical dependencies. I have found men tend to become weak to their addictions, whether that be the pussy in their bed, the drugs in their bodies, or the money in their wallets. You do not strike me as a man with weaknesses; I foresee a long and profitable future for us both.”
With the confirmation of his approval, his men shift and begin unloading black crate, after black crate from a nearby SUV. Placing the boxes in front of us, each one is opened for our inspection before being closed and passed off to Hammer. Then he and three other patched Regulators load the crates into our waiting van.
Bending down to my feet, I pick up the duffle bag of cash. I open it and remove five stacks of bills, tossing them over to Coal to put back in the van.
“Since you adjusted the amount of our product, I’ve adjusted the amount of your pay.” Passing the bag to him, I continue, “Understand, Sandoval, I’m not a man of patience. I’m not a man of mercy. And I sure as shit am not a man who plays games. This is the only leniency I’ll allow you since we are still getting to know one another. I understand a man of your position has to protect himself, just like a man of my authority does. Luckily, for us both, I do not sell products I don’t already have in my possession. That way, I won’t have a disappointed buyer. We both know what that could do.”
“You are a worthy business associate. I’m sure we will have a mutually beneficial future together,” Sandoval replies as he backs away, not removing his eyes from me until reaching his vehicle.
I realize now that I have underestimated him. He is a cocky fucker, yet smart. Never trust your men to truly have your back when your murder could give them an empire that would make them richer than their wildest dreams.
After he is pulling away in his vehicle we make our way to the bikes and waiting van. Getting on my Harley, I nod to Hammer who will take the van and handle the drugs we have purchased. The knot in my stomach eases knowing we have made another step deeper into the world of Lazaro Sandoval and the Cuban Mafia.
It is also one step closer to ending a man who needs to be taken out for good.
It is going to take a lot of diligence from both me and my men to get the information we need to take Sandoval out without backlash on the Regulators. There is a delicate balance between what we let the world see and what everyone has no clue we have going on in the background. We can’t afford to be exposed in any way. It would put us all in danger from more underground players than we could point an M-16 at. With each passing day that I have to deal with Sandoval, I see the man is too deadly to let live.
At least I am getting paid good money to kill him.
Morgan
No. no. no.
Coming down the sidewalk, after picking up my morning latte, my heel gets stuck in the crack of two concrete rectangles. When I attempt to pull it out, the heel comes unglued from the shoe. Now, every step I take, it flaps and makes walking awkward. I was on schedule, but the barista was slow and apparently new; as a result, my regular skinny caramel treat took longer than usual. Add my newest mishap, and I am officially ten minutes late for work.