Page 70 of Nothing to Lose: Lost Trilogy: Part 1
We spend the next five hours checking the placement of each explosive we planted throughout the club. Then, we check on the program itself since it’s all connected to it via Bluetooth. We check the timer. We look over the schedule for the day. It all worked almost too good to be true when we picked this day to blow up the club.
Me and Sully are supposed to leave first thing in the morning. We have a run up in Louisiana. A few other brothers have runs as well.
Bricks and his crew will be in for the day, ironically, per Bricks’ request. He decided that he needed to have church with his most trusted men. Since Wrecker getting arrested, me and Sully ain’t it, so we didn’t have to worry about Bricks telling us to stay.
No kids are allowed on the premises during these kinds of meets, so we didn’t have to worry about them. Arlene, Wrecker’s mom, managed to talk Bricks into taking her grandkid to her son in Illinois. They left early in the morning, so that worked out well.
All the club whores were told to stay away as well, at least until later in the evening when the party breaks. Hopefully, there’ll just be a pile of rubble left of the club by then.
“It’s all perfect,” Shortie assures me when I finally slap the cover of my laptop shut and throw my head back against the chair.
“It needs to be, Shortie,” I tell him with my eyes closed. “If not, we’re all gonna be dead. Then we did all this for nothing, right?”
He scratches at his head nervously. “Right, right.”
“What’s up, brother?” I lift my chin at him and watch him carefully. He’s acting all nervous and out of sorts.
“I was wondering,” he does a weird hop from one foot to the other, “if Wrecker would let me bring Sugar with me.”
Well, this is just fucking great, and I can’t believe none of us saw it coming.
Apparently, Bricks had sent for Wrecker’s baby mama, and she showed up at the club today. Bricks moved her into his house just as Arlene was leaving with the grandkid to Illinois, so disaster averted there.
Shortie here has always had a hard-on for Sugar. For reasons unbeknownst to me, this whore has always had these guys chasing her around like she had a pussy made of gold. I am including Wrecker in the group of morons since he managed to get her pregnant.
“Why would you wanna bring Sugar with you, Shortie?” I ask him as nicely as I am capable of, given the situation.
He doesn’t say anything for a while, just paces around and rubs at his face every so often.
“I thought she’d like it if I saved her,” he cackles after a while. I let out a chuckle so he doesn’t go crazy on me because I’m not laughing at his stupid idea.
“I think you need to run this by Wrecker, Shortie.” I decide to wash my hands off this. I want no part of the decision making process.
My suggestion seems to give him hope. “Do you think he’ll let me?”
“I think he’ll listen to you,” I assure him, and I have no doubt Wrecker will listen to Shortie’s request. Will he say yes to it? I think chances of me getting stricken by lightning twice in a row as I’m sitting here at Shortie’s desk are higher than Wrecker saying yes to Shortie.
“She didn’t do anything bad,” Shortie gets excited that I’m listening to him. “It was all Bricks. He made her get pregnant, but he thought the baby would be his. And he wanted to make Arlene raise him as her son after he killedherson. He just did that because he hates Arlene. Get it?”
I’m just staring at Shortie, wondering what the actual fuck is happening in his head right now. Some wires are definitely crossing, and not for the better.
“If you really think about it,” his eyes go crazy in his head when he talks again. “Bricks is really, really smart.”
“How so?” I indulge him and ask.
“He got rid of Wrecker, then almost had his son. That was a smart plan, right?”
I continue staring at Shortie. “Smart,” I mumble under my breath.
“And all the stuff that happened with you,” Shortie cackles. “Just smart. Bricks is really a genius,” he says it like a revelation.
My breath hitches in the back of my throat at this mention.
“What did he do so smart with me?”
“All the stuff,” Shortie puts his arms out, like that explains everything.
“Yeah, the stuff,” I agree with him. “What was it, the… the… the…” I snap my fingers together, like I am trying to find my words.
