Page 70 of Monk
Using the password that I’d memorized a long time ago, I open Spencer’s phone, click on the texting app, and start to key in my message.
“Kasey, hurry up in there!”
Spencer’s voice is muffled through the door, but the three quick bangs on it make the thing tremble in its frame.
“Almost done,” I call back.
“Hurry up!” he shouts again, followed by another three bangs.
My fingers flying, I finish the message and hit send, praying it goes through. That done, I scramble to the window and push on it as hard as I can, thinking it would be sealed shut by time and grime. It flies open with a sharp squeal and knocks me off balance. I yelp as I fall off the edge of the toilet, hitting the ground with a noisy clatter and a grunt of pain.
“What the hell is going on in there?” Spencer shouts.
I look at the open window, feeling every grain of sand slipping through the hourglass, knowing my time is almost up.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Monk
“Are you being serious right now?” Prophet asks.
I nod, my expression grim. “Dead serious, man.”
“The fuckin’ Zavala cartel?”
I nod again. “Afraid so.”
He takes a long pull of his beer and shakes his head. “Shit. And I thought my luck sucked.”
After the run, I hightailed it back to the clubhouse, hoping to catch Prophet. Thankfully, I had a small bit of luck on my side for a change. The clubhouse is empty, save for the two of us, and we’re having a beer as I lay out the situation and what I need from him.
“Well, we’ve got rooms in the outbuildings. She can stay here as long as she needs to,” he says.
“Thanks, Prophet. That means a lot to me.”
He laughs. “I’m sure it means a lot more to her. Like I told you before, she seems like a good woman. She sure as hell doesn’t deserve the shit raining down on her right now.”
“That’s what I told her.”
He arches an eyebrow at me. “So, you handled your shit?”
“Didn’t fuck it up this time either.”
“That’s a good man,” he says, giving me a smile.
We drink in silence for a moment and I watch his expression darken. He turns his eyes to me again.
“She’s welcome here, man. But I gotta tell you, if those cartel sicarios show up, she may not be any safer here. When the bullets start flying, nobody’s safe, man. But you have my word, the Pharaohs will do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”
I extend my hand and he grips it tight. “I really appreciate it, man. You don’t know what your being willing to stick it out there for her means to me.”
“I have a pretty good idea of what she means to you. And to me, that makes her family. And we protect our own.”
The door to the clubhouse opens and Max walks in carrying a couple cases of beer to replenish the bar. I give him a nod, and he returns it.
“Seems like a decent kid,” Prophet says.
“I think so. I like him. And like most of us, he’s broken in some way. Needs the MC.”
