Page 97 of Hart of Vengeance
“The fucker stole from me,” Duke responded.
I shook my head. “You’re better off without him.”
Lou scanned the club up and down, making sure he checked every nook and cranny. “No other men, Duke?”
Duke threw him the middle finger. “Just sit your ass down, Lou.” His tone brooked no argument.
“Fuck off,” Lou spat back. Literally, spit sprayed from his mouth. “I don’t take orders from you anymore.”
I held back a laugh.
“Got a problem, Denim?” Tito snarled as he pulled out a chair.
I was tempted to follow in Duke’s footsteps and tell Tito to sit his ass down, but we were there to do business, not exchange barbs or heated words. The only thing I wanted to hear from Tito was him confessing to killing his brother.
Keep the end game in mind.
“Let’s get down to business,” I said evenly.
Tito took inventory of the room. “Why do I feel like someone is lurking in the shadows? If you so much as have the cops watching, I will finally kill you, Denim.”
Maybe Tito wasn’t a moron after all.
I opened my hands. “Why would I do that? I just got out of prison.”
Duke growled. “Sit your ass down too, Alvarez. You wanted a seat at the table. Here we are. Talk.”
Tito stuck his middle finger up at Duke as he obeyed.
Duke’s jaw was cement. “That’s no way to gain entrance or my trust.”
Tension hung in the air, thick, tight, and ready to snap.
“You have the floor, Tito,” I started. “Let’s talk gun shipment.” It was best to start with that rather than whether or not he’d killed his brother. Maybe I could get him in a good mood by letting him think he was playing with the big boys and then catch him off guard.
Tito clasped his hands together and set them on the table. He eyed Duke. “First, I’m not giving you any information until I know for sure this meeting isn’t a way to placate me.”
Duke sat up straighter. “Now why would I waste my time pacifying you? You want to work with me, then give me something I can take to my colleagues.”
Tito regarded Lou.
I had to hand it to him—he’d been smart to bring Lou along. After all, Lou knew Duke well.
Lou nodded, his fat neck rolling under his chin.
“I want fifty percent of the proceeds from the sale of the guns,” Tito said.
Duke sat back and laughed. “You’re not calling the shots.”
“Then who is?” Tito asked. “And if it’s your partner, why isn’t he here?”
Inwardly, I sighed. The more Duke kept talking, the more he would back himself into a wall with the Feds.
The back doorbell rang.
Surely that wasn’t Travers wanting to raid the joint. We hadn’t gotten a single ounce of anything he could use to send Tito or my brother to prison.
I narrowed my eyes. “I told you, Alvarez, not to bring any more men.”
