Page 69 of True Bastard
“No, a dead man owes you a debt,” the stranger countered, leaning back in his chair, glaring sternly at Morpheus as his jaw ticked and his knuckles whitened where they gripped the arm of his chair.
“His father’s debt is old blood. You know what that means here.”
The stranger’s lips curled into a tired, bitter smile. “Yeah, I do. But maybe it’s time you started collecting from the right ghosts, Morpheus.”
The air in the room grew dense, thick with old grievances and secrets none of them were willing to voice just yet, and I watched as the beaten man shifted in his seat. The silence stretched, broken only by the distant hum of the club brothers beyond the door, a reminder that the world kept spinning even as they clung to grudges best left buried.
Finally, Morpheus broke the silence, his voice cold as steel. “Find her. Bring her to me. Maybe then we can talk about forgiving debts.”
The stranger didn’t move. His eyes never left Morpheus as he revealed, “I don’t have to look for her. She’s in the mailroom at the Soulless Sinners’ clubhouse.”
Morpheus roared, “Fuck!”
The stranger nodded once before glancing away with something like regret etched across his features. “And the man you’ve beaten the hell out of is the only man who can get her to talk,” he said, looking around the room and grinning. “But I will do you a favor. I will point you in the right direction. Consider it a gesture of goodwill from the Soulless Sinners in exchange for Bane.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You want to know the answers to all of your unanswered questions? Then you only need to ask one of your brothers.”
Morpheus stiffened, as did the rest of the brothers in the room.
The stranger smiled and said, “Zephyr has the answers you seek.”
Morpheus straightened in his seat. “I want the cunt. If Montana agrees to the exchange, you can have the good doctor.”
The stranger reached for his phone and made a call. “Hey, it’s me. Yeah, I’m here. No, he looks like shit. Asshole wants Meredith in exchange for Bane,” he said clearly, then covered his phone and looked at Morpheus. “Montana will agree on one condition. A treaty.”
Morpheus growled. “He will give me what I fucking want, or I will take it myself. He’s got one week.”
Placing the phone back to his ear, the stranger sighed and said, “Yeah, that isn’t gonna work for him.”
Instantly, the man flinched as we all heard shouting. Placing the phone on the table, he hit the speaker button, allowing all of us to hear. “You tell that fucking bastard son of a bitch he can either take the damn deal, or he can kiss my ass!”
Morpheus leaned back and laughed heartily, as did the rest of the brothers.
Leaning forward, the stranger groaned while the man on the phone roared, “FUCK YOU, MORPHEUS! You will give me my fucking brother back or I will kill the fucking cunt myself!”
At that, Morpheus sobered. Straightening his back, he reached for the cellphone and slid it toward him. “You don’t have the fucking balls, you piece of shit. That cunt is mine, or I will slit the good doc’s throat right now and watch him bleed out. You think I’m fucking around? Test me, motherfucker, and you will see exactly what the fucking Brotherhood of Bastards is capable of. Now make the fucking deal, Montana, before you really piss me off.”
Silence.
Dead motherfucking silence.
“I get Bane?” we all eventually heard.
“Yes.”
“Fine,” Montana relented. “One week. We can make the exchange in New York City.”
“Wrong again, asshole. You will bring the bitch to me in Deadwood.”
“Not happening.”
“Rapid City,” I spoke up, and all eyes snapped to mine. “Make the trade in Rapid City. Frankie’s Diner on the north side of the city. Two men each.”
“Deal!” Montana said before disconnecting the call.
The stranger grabbed his phone and stood, smiling. “I like her, Morpheus. Maybe she should be the one to broker dealsfrom now on. She’s also a hell of a lot prettier to look at than your ugly face.”
