Page 45 of In It for the Long Ride

Mak snorted and slid his beer off the table.

“We’ve a meeting in two days’ time. He’s making demands again.” I summed up what I could.

“Yeah, what's he want, your left nut or mine?” Mak laughed.

“He wants you to cut your ol’ lady's property of ink from her body and deliver it to him,” Easy quipped.

Mak laughed. It was a robust sound, until he realized Easy was serious.

“Fuck him!” he spat, setting that bottle down with a clink. “And fuck you. Ain’t nobody carving on my wife!”

Mak sat up and his voice was rising. Phil did what he could to clear the room, but the few patrons he’d urged toward the exit still gave parting glances.

“I didn’t say we were going to oblige him,” I pointed out.

Mak wasn’t even hearing me. The man didn’t exactly have a history of responding well to threats or ignorance. None of us did really, but Mak was the worst. That man ran headfirst into violence, it was like he sat around all goddamn day just looking for an excuse to give into it.

“If I ever get my hands on that son of a bitch…” Mak trailed off.

His jaw set and that Miller scowl intensified until he shot off the chair and stormed out of the club.

“It’s gonna be a long two days,” Easy mumbled.

I huffed and nodded, “It’s gonna be something.”

“If he returns her–” Easy started, drawing my attention back to him. “It’s only gonna be her body, Monty. I’m not stupid.”

I wanted to deny it to give him hope, but I had enough experience with devastation to know that kind of hope could be dangerous, too. So, I kept my mouth shut and stared at him.

“He’s a cunt’s hair away from opening fire in that meeting. We both know it.” His voice had gone low, and just when I thought he was done speaking, he rasped, “You need to let him.”

“We’re not doin’ that,” I instantly vetoed it.

He huffed and shook his head. “Monty–”

“I said no. We ain’t about to start indiscriminately airing out buildings and letting the bodies drop where they may.” I couldn’t keep the disgust off my features. “We’re gonna end this shit,Easy. We’re gonna recover what we can and we’re gonna end this. I need you–”

I thumped his chest to emphasize my point, “... to be the enforcer I know you can be. I need you to set this shit down, suit up, and get your head in the game.”

“I ain’t gonna sit around watching no more people pay for our sins.”

“You wanna speak of sins, we can. If you want. I can tell you with a certainty though, any fuckin’ sin I might choose to commit in this life, or the next ten– I already paid for!” I snapped.

His eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair.

“I spent years in a fucking tiger cage. Starved. Tortured. There ain’t a sin on this Earth that I could have committed to have earned that. Don’t speak to me about sin. This isn’t about religion. It isn’t about God. It’s war. Plain and fucking simple. And let me tell you something, son– There ain’t too many more pawns he can grab for.”

His eyes lit up with anger and I should have stopped, but I didn’t. I needed to get into his head, because I’d seen him like this before over the years. If I didn’t break that self-pity, he’d be snorting everything he could get his hands on in search of answers or relief. I needed him. It was not the time for a relapse!

“Daisy? Blaze? Isabella and the kids.”

“Stop,” he growled.

I nodded, “It has to. It has to stop. But running in with your guns blazing doesn’t make that happen. It leaves Joplin lost in their world. Crystal will forever be torn and tangled up about it, and the cycle continues.”

“Fine. I’ll talk him down,” Easy grunted, hopping out of his chair.

“Make it happen.” I rubbed my face and looked around the empty club.

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