Page 12 of Blackbeard
“Hey,” Leigh barked. “Did you just call me a cow?”
His ice-blue gaze darted up to her with a sharp look.
Shit, things were about to get ugly.
The problem with Gatling was that he tended to be restrained, quiet, and unobtrusive, until he was pushed too far. Then he would strike, clean and fast, like a coiled snake with lightning speed.
“Trust me, that’s tame compared to what I’d be calling you if your guard dogs weren’t on duty," he said.
“Watch your mouth, boy,” Popeye growled.
Gatling huffed and crossed his arms.
“This is a fucking trap, boss. We’re idiots to even consider it.”
Kingpin remained silent, deliberating. Gatling wasn’t wrong. It reeked of a setup. But the alternative was bloodshed. A lot of it.
Hot Shot had been wounded in the leg. I got lucky, merely winged by a bullet on my right shoulder. The garage was a mess and would cost thousands of dollars to repair.
An arranged marriage didn’t seem too bad in comparison.
“Why the sudden change of heart?” Kingpin asked Popeye. “Less than twelve hours ago, your boys opened fire on my club.Now you want to hand over your daughter for a wedding and pretend like we’re one big happy family.”
Popeye sighed.
“I didn’t want to bring it up but…I had a cancer scare a couple years back. Celebrated my sixtieth birthday in a hospital bed, getting chemo.”
Shit. A grim silence settled over the room.
I glanced at Leigh. She pressed her lips into a thin line and lowered her gaze to the floor, shielding her expression with her lashes.
1%ers like us rarely get to grow old and die of natural causes. Living a life of crime and violence was a game for younger men who were agile and light on their feet, capable of sleeping with one eye open.
A cancer diagnosis was…surprising. We planned for damn near everything else—shootouts, bar brawls, territory battles, fist fights, getting shivved in prison.
But cancer? No. None of us ever thought we would go out like that.
“I’m sorry to hear it,” Kingpin said.
“Yeah, me too,” Popeye replied. “The good news is that I’m cancer-free these days. Sadly, I’m not fool enough to think that I’ll outrun it though. I’m sixty-four. Leigh is all I’ve got. Her mother…she left a long time ago.” He spread his hands. “Expanding my territory was a way to leave a legacy to my daughter when I’m gone. But I knew you bastards would be tough. I didn’t expect you to give up without a fight. And I didn’t want to wave the pity card.”
Cancer or not, it didn’t change the fact that the Forsaken had been our enemies ever since killing Digger. Marrying Leigh would still be like cuddling up to a fucking scorpion.
I wasn’t fooled by that pretty face, or distracted by those gorgeous tits of hers. She was dangerous. The man who agreed to be her husband would have to watch his back.
“I could make this easier for you boys,” Leigh put in.
Every head turned to look in her direction, waiting.
She pointed at me.
“I want him. Your Vice President.”
Chapter four
Leigh
Blackbeard fixed his dark eyes on me. I smiled sweetly.
