Page 135 of Parrish

“You assholes have watched A Bronx Tale way too many times,” he accuses.

“Before this goes any further, I’m going to tell you three goons something, I don’t take lightly to threats. I also don’t appreciate you disrupting my business dinner with a man who can probably buy and sell the three of you ten times over.”

“Can’t argue that,” Wolf says. “I don’t have a quarter of a million cents let alone a million dollars but I assure you if I did, I wouldn’t give you a penny.”

“That’s a shame because after that little stunt you idiots pulled my rate just tripled,” he says in a matter-of-fact fashion.

“Enough of this shit,” I growl. “I didn’t put this monkey suit on and crash your mission to get laid for no good reason. I need you to pull your weight and get in touch with the warden at Rykers.”

“Sure,” he replies. “Would you like me to pay him a house call while I’m at it?”

Pulling up his zipper, he rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath as he makes his way towards the sink. Turning on the water, he starts to wash his hands.

“I’m not asking motherfucker, I’m telling,” I grind out, shutting the water. “I want Blackie protected until we get him out. If that means throwing him in the hole for twenty-four hours so be it but as long as he’s in there, he’s at risk.”

Snatching some paper towels, he dries his hands and shakes his head.

“First of all, he’s going to be in there a hell of a lot longer than twenty-four hours. His court date isn’t—”

“Fuck his court date,” I say, cutting him off. “Which brings me to your next task. After you call the warden and get Blackie protection, you’re going to call Ritzer and tell him to drop all fucking charges against him. You’re also going to ask him for full immunity on any and all pending charges against the club.”

Tossing the paper towel into the trash, Schwartz lets out a full belly laugh.

“You really are insane,” he says between chuckles. “If it was that easy, don’t you think I would’ve put that call in already and rid myself of you clowns. The only way Ritzer is going to cut a deal with Blackie is if he’s guaranteed to nail you to the cross.”

“What if I gave him someone bigger than me?”

Crossing his arms against his chest, he mocks me by raising a skeptical eyebrow. The son of a bitch definitely waxes them things.

“You going to dig up Al Capone?”

“Can I hit him?” Pipe questions. “Just one shot. Please?”

Ignoring him, I level Schwartz with a look and crack my knuckles.

“I’m going to give him the Sinaloa Cartel.”

That gets his attention.

“How?”

“Don’t worry about how,” I tell him. “You just get him to agree and by this time tomorrow, Ritzer will have Javier and his hit squad in cuffs.”

“We’ll call you with the location and you’ll relay the message to Ritzer. He picks them up and drops the fucking charges on Blackie,” Wolf adds.

Straightening his shoulders, he swings his gaze from me to Wolf and back again.

“You’ve already left Ritzer holding his dick once before, you better be sure you can deliver the cartel before I make the call because if you can’t, if we make this deal and we don’t hold up our end of the bargain, you can kiss Petra goodbye and we might as well reserve you a fucking cell too.”

As much as it pains me to admit it, he’s right. We’re putting all our eggs in one basket, hoping the Ice Rider’s got the intel we need. Plastering my best poker face to my ugly mug, I hold my head high and meet Schwartz’s weary gaze.

“Make the fucking call, Schwartz and answer your phone when I call.”

“You know I don’t work for you right?” he questions, crossing his arms again. “You’ll have to retain me, and I wasn’t kidding about my fee being double.”

It’s my turn to smirk and I do so as I reach into my jacket pocket. Producing a wad of cash twice the size as the one he flashed in front of his new client, I toss the bills at him.

“You do now,” I tell him, turning to Pipe and Wolf. “Let’s blow this joint.” With another look in his direction, I warn him not to sit on my orders and as I start for the door, I catch a glimpse of him in the mirror, lifting his phone to his ear.

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