Page 6 of Brutal Knight

"And killed them," Coulter interjected.

“—Andtaken care of them,” Bourbon paused to glance meaningfully at Romero, who was gesturing for Dante to sit, “we're going to give the Mendozas what they want.”

The past few months had been a warfare between Nero, the old Don—who also happened to be their father, and an utter waste of oxygen on this earth—and us. After trying to kill Bourbon, Coulter had to retaliate, killing the man whose heart was as hard as glass but, apparent-fucking-ly, just as fragile.

After that was weeks of weeding out men who would betray us and reestablishing our dominance in the city.

In the process, Coulter had brought in the Mexican cartel for help. They’d not only betrayed us but put out a hit on Coulter, just for shits and giggles. We were currently in the negotiation process with them. Right now, we were the dominant force in Vegas, with connections to California, New York, Russia, Cuba and Guatemala. We had routes across the world but concentrated our efforts near home.

Right now, the Mendoza cartel was asking for both money and territory, something both Coulter and I were vehemently against giving up.

I blinked, and turned in my chair towards Bourbon. "Excuse me?"

“The territory they’re asking for is only a couple of blocks?—“

“A couple of very profitable blocks,” I reminded him.

“—and it won’t hurt our bottom line too much. To them it’s a lot, but to us, it’s not. It only reflects our strength, not our weakness.” No one spoke, so Bourbon continued. “For now, we need to cut down on the violence. We’ve gotten rid of all of Nero’s loyal men, except for one. My contact in the FBI tells me that they’ve noticed."

"What about the Senator? He owes us." Dante protested.

“His wife died because of us,” Coulter said. “Why would he help us now?”

“Because her death thrust him to the top of the polls,” Dante countered. “He won that election because she died.”

"Nothing like a grieving widow to endear the public to you." Taking one last hit, I ground my joint in the ashtray provided.

“Exactly. He should be kissing our asses for that,” Dante agreed. “Then at least her death would mean something.”

“All right, Dante, ensure that the Senator clearly understands our needs, and what the consequences are if he doesn’t fall in line.” Dante nodded his head, and Bourbon continued. “Regardless, I want us to strengthen our position by becoming as legit as possible."

"You'll never make as much money going legit," I countered. I'd been the money man all my life, first under my grandfather's tutelage, then as the accountant for Coulter’s clubs. Now that Nero was dead, I was digging through all his accounts.

Nero had some legitimate businesses, but they weren’t pulling in near as much as the illegal ones.

"Maybe money isn't all I care about." Bourbon replied with a cool voice. His wife, Rose, also one of my closest friends, was going to have a baby, and going legitimate would help make things safer for them.

“Okay,” I shrugged.

"I'm fine with going legitimate, but we have to take care of the cartel. They're going to give us problems." Coulter said. "Plus, we finally have Nicholi under our thumb. Our first new shipment of ozone arrived yesterday." Ozone was Vegas’ newest, most desired drug of choice, and we’d had to strong-arm the Russians into selling it to us.

"I'm fine with the ozone," Bourbon waved him off, “but I don't want to start a war with the cartel. Not yet.”

“They almost fucking killed me,” Coulter growled.

“And for that, they will pay, but we will handle it as a business transaction, not with violence.”

“You can’t trust them,” Coulter shook his head. “They’ll only see that tactic as weakness.”

“I can’t start a war with the cartel while my wife is pregnant!” Bourbon exploded in a rare show of emotion, and silence fell over the tattoo shop. There was even a pause in the music, a briefnothingnesshovering in the space between us.

Then the music began again, and Coulter spoke in a calm voice. “If we do nothing, it will only become more dangerous for us down the line. That will put all our families in danger.”

“Then we’ll handle them the same way we’ve handled things in the past. But we need information first; we don’t even know the identity of theirJefe. It requires patience, but we’re experts at that by now. We find their weaknesses, then,when it’s time, cut them down with it. For now, we practice patience—” At Coulter’s protest, Bourbon snarled out, “then,aftermy wife has her fucking baby, we cut off the head of the snake.” At this concession, we all nodded in agreement. “But we’ll do it quietly. By the time they notice we’ve taken over, I want them to have nothing left to stand on.”

“Fine,” Coulter reluctantly agreed, and Bourbon stood. He looked like he wanted to get the hell out of here, and I didn't blame him. He had a nice piece of ass to go home to.

"Got somewhere to be?" Coulter asked with a grin.

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