Page 41 of Scatter the Bones

“Prospects gettin’ a bump too?” Suds asks.

Hustler and Z share a look. “Small, but yeah,” Z answers.

Suds scowls. “Prospects didn’t get shit back in my day.”

Z stares him down for a beat. “We didn’t have indoor plumbing back in your day either—doesn’t mean we need to shit in a hole out back.” His cold, sarcastic tone makes it clear this isn’t up for debate.

“Progress is good,” Rock says. “We ask a lot of prospects.”

“Unbunch your boxers,” Hustler mutters at Suds. “He ain’t gettin’ a full cut. But he takes risks like the rest of us—oughta get something for that.”

“Pretty sure all the free pussy is the reward,” Eazy mutters, then side-eyes Z. “Just kiddin’, Prez. I’m cool.”

“Good.” Z flicks a hand, passing the floor back to Rock.

“Teller, share your news,” Rock says.

Teller gives us all a shit-eating grin. “Same deal. Bonuses will hit by the end of the week.” His smug smile slips into something more serious but almost hesitant. “The U.S. market’s volatile right now, so I’m looking to reduce our risk by diversifying into some international positions. Nothing wild, just a few high-growth opportunities I think we’ve been overlooking.”

He glances around, picking up on the blank stares and fading attention, then tacks on quickly, “If you want to go over the charts after church, come find me.”

Sparky lifts a hand, his eyes still bloodshot but his voice firm. “You’re not talking about investing our money in places that use child labor, fund terrorism, or disappear journalists, then gaslight the world about human rights concerns, are you?”

A beat of silence settles over the table.

Teller’s grin fades. His voice drops, low and steady. “No. I’m not touching anything shady. Just a few sectors overseas—clean energy, medical tech. Stuff like that.”

“It’s all hella shady though, isn’t it?” Dex says.

Rock rubs his fingers over his forehead, a clear sign he’d like us towrap it the fuck up.

“To some degree, sure,” Teller agrees. “Doesn’t mean I don’t do what I can to minimize harm.” He flashes a quick, easy smile. “But we gotta eat too.”

And buy hundred-thousand-dollar SUVs.

Nope, definitely don’t add that to the conversation.

“Thanks, Teller,” Sparky says.

“I can give you a list, if you want,” Teller offers. “You might be more plugged into causes I’m not aware of. If there’s something specific you’re opposed to, let me know. I can adjust.”

“Jesus Christ,” Suds mutters. “Hippie Harry over here will have you investing in energy crystals and goat Pilates.”

Z narrows his gaze. “It’s a valid concern these days.”

Sparky lifts his chin at Z.

“Any other questions?” Rock asks in a tone that suggests the answer better beno.

Eazy raises his hand and swivels his head between Z and Rock. “This mean we gotta kick up more money to National?”

The strangest hush falls over the table. No, more specificallyRock’sendof the table. It’s brief but noticeable. To me anyway.

I’ve never wanted to be involved in whatever the fuck it is the treasurer does, but knowing Priest, I bet he has all kinds of questions whenever a charter sends Nationalmoremoney than usual. Downstate’s never had that problem before. When Sway was our president, we were bleeding money, not gettin’ bonuses.

But dealing with National is Teller’s problem, and now Hustler’s too. Not mine.

After a beat, Teller leans forward, voice smooth as ever. “Yup, we kick up the normal percentage. Mark it down as income.”

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