Page 56 of Blackbeard
“Pull up a chair,” he said to Kingpin. “Have some meat. Let’s talk.”
I seethed at how brazen these Forsaken were. Just because we shared territory with them now didn’t mean they had access to our personal lives around the clock. I didn’t waltz into any of my brothers’ homes without being invited or asking permission, and I’d known several of them for years.
“If you have something to say,” Kingpin countered with steel in his voice. “You come to me. Not my wife. Not my house. We discuss it over a beer, or in Church. Not at my fucking kitchen table.”
A small smile curled the corner of Popeye’s mouth up.
“We’re all family here now, remember? Or do I need to refresh your memory that your Vice President is married to my daughter?”
Kingpin’s nostrils flared with irritation.
“What do you want?”
Popeye sniffed and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, despite the napkin tucked next to his plate.
“I need a favor.”
I huffed a dry laugh of disbelief and crossed my arms.
“And you think this is the way to go about it? Hattie doesn’t need your bullshit.”
Popeye waved me off.
“Keep raising a fuss, son. All you’re doing is dragging out this visit and making it longer than it needs to be.”
Oh, fuck the bastard sideways. Legally, he was my father-in-law, but I certainly wouldn’t be feeling any warmth or positive regard for him anytime soon.
Popeye pushed his plate away, picking his teeth with the tip of his knife.
“For many years, I’ve been a close friend of the Makarov family,” he said.
“Russian mafia,” Vlad grunted, to my left. With his own Russian ties, he would know what we were dealing with here, better than anyone else. “Wealthy. Connected. Based out of Denver, last I heard.”
“Vicious sons of bitches, too,” Big G put in. “I’ve seen their handiwork—sadistic stuff.”
“Exactly,” Popeye said. “They’re powerful, influential people, and they don’t like to be crossed. They’ve asked me to deliver a shipment of guns for them, to a dealer here in Montana.”
I closed my eyes and stifled a groan. I knew where this was going and I didn’t like it.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You have to go through Brightwater in order to do it.”
Popeye grinned and pointed his knife at me.
“Smart man.”
Kingpin pressed his lips into a thin line.
“What you’re asking is more than a favor. It’s club business. Not to be discussed around my wife.”
Popeye spread his hands.
“No need to discuss anything, brother. We share the same territory now. I don’t have to ask your permission anymore. The Forsaken will take care of it. I’m simply extending the courtesy of letting you know what’s going down.”
Fuck, this was really not good.
Popeye wasn’t proposing anything. He was doing this, and he didn’t give a shit if we approved or not.
“I thought you came here to ask for a favor,” I replied.
