Page 7 of Wick
"Did ya have to be so rough on the newbie, brother?" Riggs jests when I step in front of him.
"He needed to learn his place." I shrug. "Now tell me what the hell happened here, Prez."
Riggs runs his hand through his beard and lets out a heavy sigh before turning to his woman, who is still standing by his side. Riggs puts his hands out in front of him and signs something to Luna, who is deaf. He speaks out loud as he does. "I want you to go upstairs with Fender. I have something I need to take care of."
Without question, Luna nods and follows Fender back inside the bar. With Luna gone, I push my previous question.
"Talk to me, Riggs."
"We had a guy overdose in the men's bathroom tonight. Fender found him."
"Is he dead?"
Riggs shakes his head. "He wasn't breathin' when Fender found him. I administered CPR until the ambulance showed. The paramedics called it about ten minutes ago. The kid was only twenty-five."
"Fuckin hell," Kiwi mutters.
My blood starts to boil as one-word rips from my mouth. "Kostas."
Kostas has been a thorn in our side for over a year now. He's been peddling his drugs on the streets of New Orleans while ignoring multiple warnings from the club. He's also failed to heed Riggs' threat the last time we caught his minions in Twisted Throttle a couple of months ago.
"Wick." Riggs calls my name snapping me out of my thoughts. "Call Everest. Tell him I need him down here to keep an eye on Luna. I also want you to tell Nova to get his ass out of whatever pussy he's in and get to the bar. We're going to pay a visit to Kostas." Riggs steps away to talk with Chief Richards while I pull my cell from my pocket and fire off a text to both Nova and Everest. They both reply immediately saying they are on their way.
Thirty minutes later Everest and Nova arrive, and the street in front of the bar is now void of emergency vehicles. I sit on my bike smoking a cigarette as I wait for Riggs to come down from the apartment he shares with Luna that's located on the second floor of Twisted Throttle. Myself along with my other brothers, Kiwi, Fender, and Nova, stay silent. As we wait, we meet each other's eyes and share a look. We are through playing nice with Kostas.
When Riggs rounds the corner of the bar, I flick my cigarette to the ground and fire up my bike. I feel my adrenaline kicking in as my Prez and brothers follow suit. I wait for Riggs to back out of his space and pull out onto the road before I ride up beside him while Kiwi, Fender and Nova fall into formation behind us. Riggs raises his hand in the air, giving his men the signal to expect trouble. He then peers over at me with a look I know all too well; one that says shit is about to go down. I give him a chin lift, letting him know I am more than fucking ready.
The first thing the club did when Kostas moved his dealing into New Orleans was find out where all three of his drop houses were located. Word is he bounces around between the three houses daily. And if I know my Prez like I think I do; we will be hitting all three houses tonight until we find him. Kostas thinks The Kings were playing when we told him to take his drugs somewhere else, but tonight he's about to learn a valuable lesson, and that is you don't fuck with the club or our town.
It only takes about ten minutes for us to arrive at the first house. I want to laugh when the two guys sitting on the porch dash inside the front door upon our arrival. Not wasting any time, myself along with Riggs and my other brothers roll our bikes right up onto the lawn, coming to a stop at the front door. The moment we climb off our bikes and draw our weapons, a large Latino man and a skinny white dude step out of the house. The larger man has his beefy arms crossed over his chest while trying to look intimidating, whereas the skinny asshole whom I recognize the closer I get to him as the same asshole we kicked out of Twisted Throttle a couple of months back. The asshole looks nervous as fuck too. He's also fidgeting too much for my liking. Riggs nor I say a single word as we climb the steps of the porch. We are not here to make niceties; we are here to ask questions. And our way of questioning usually involves blood.
"What the hell do you want?" The big fucker tries to block mine and Riggs' entry into the house. I ignore his question by slamming my fist into his gut, then deliver an uppercut to his jaw. The asshole goes down hard and when his body hits the railing of the porch, the wood splinters, sending him falling backward to the ground below, knocking him out cold. Next, I turn my attention to Riggs who has the tweaker by the scruff of his neck, forcing him through the front door. When we step inside, I see Fender, Kiwi, and Nova have already made it through the backdoor and have their pieces drawn on the two other fuckers sitting on a sofa in the living room; both looking like they are seconds away from pissing their pants.
"Where the fuck is Kostas?" Riggs demands shoving the guy he's holding toward the sofa where he falls over his buddies.
"He's not here," one of the guys who doesn't look a day over twenty offers. It's a fucking shame these young kids throwing their life away on bullshit like this.
"No shit, he's not here," I bark. "I believe my Prez was asking you dip shits where he is."
This time it's the tweaker who pipes up. "Kostas doesn't tell us shit. He only comes by once a day to collect his money. And if it's not him, he sends one of his bodyguards."
"Has he collected from this house tonight?" I ask.
Tweaker goes to open his mouth to answer but is cut off by one of the other guys. This one looks to be older than the other two, at least in his mid-thirties and has stringy blond hair. "Shut the fuck up, Pete. You know how Kostas feels about snitches. He'll kill us."
Raising my gun, I fire a single shot into the blond motherfucker's leg. He squeals in pain while his two friends look on in shock. My brothers, however, don't even flinch. "Looks like you assholes are at an impasse because I'll kill you if you don't talk." I keep my eyes trained on the guy I shot. He's obviously in pain and starting to sweat bullets. He takes a moment to contemplate what to do before he makes the wise choice of opening his mouth. "Kostas is due to stop by at 2:00," he grits through clenched teeth.
Peering down at my watch, I note the time. "We have twenty minutes," I say to Riggs. With my gun still trained on the three men, Riggs holsters his weapon and nods toward Kiwi, Fender, and Nova. "Let's move our bikes around back. Wick, you stay put and watch these fuckers."
"You got it, Prez."
A few minutes later, Riggs and the other brothers make their way back inside; with them the big dude I knocked out on the porch. "Sleeping beauty decided to wake up," Kiwi jests.
"Take a seat with your friends, princess." I point my gun and motion toward the sofa. The guy gives me a murderous glare as he stumbles his way across the room. I note the swelling coupled with the bruising on his face. I smirk.
The twenty-minutes we have to wait for Kostas turned into only ten. My guess is he was tipped off to our arrival. Peeking out the blinds, I watch as a black SUV pulls up and parks on the road in front of the house. One guy exits the driver side as a second climbs out of the front passenger seat then opens the back door for a guy in a suit. I assume this is Kostas himself. Turning away from the window, I regard Riggs who is looking every bit as chill sitting at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette while Kiwi stands guard at the back door. Fender and Nova took their leave five minutes ago to make sure Kostas didn't have any of his men catch us off guard by coming up behind the house. When I turn back to look out the window, I note Kostas and his two men walking up the steps of the porch. The three of them stop in their tracks when they see the busted banister. Kostas nods to the guy on his right and motions for him to walk through the front door first.Pussy.
Just as the front door opens, I raise my gun, pointing at the head of the guy who walks in first. He goes to reach for his weapon when I spit out, "that would be a terrible fuckin' move." The guy halts his movements. "Get your ass inside," I order.
