Page 43 of Domino
Clearing my throat, I drain the last of my bottle and try to shake it off, trying to shove the memory back into the little box inside of me where I store all of the remembrances of the terrible shit I’ve seen and done in my life. Trying to keep it all locked up is the only way I manage to stay sane. Extreme compartmentalization. It’s another handy trick I learned in the Corps and one that serves me every bit as well as threat assessment.
“So, when are you going to call her?” Derek presses.
“What the fuck are you, my life coach?”
“Sounds like you need one, man.”
“You can eat shit,” I say and laugh.
I hear some bikes rumble into the yard outside, and a couple of minutes later, Cosmo walks through the front door with Bala trailing behind him, but I barely recognize him. He’s in blue jeans, but a flannel shirt with long sleeves, obscuring the tats on his arms, and a black t-shirt underneath that. He’s not wearing his kutte, and he’s got a ball cap on, covering up the tattoos on his head. To me, he looks like he’s intentionally trying to disguise himself.
Bala gives me a nod as I look between the two of them. His face is pinched, tension written all over it, and I find myself wondering why Tarantula’s second is in our clubhouse and why both he and Cosmo look ready to shit a brick. I nod back to him, my mind spinning with curiosity at this development.
Cosmo walks Bala over to the Leadership room and lets him in, sliding the door closed behind him. Then, he turns to me and walks over. Perhaps sensing the thickening tension in the air as if by some silent understanding, Derek gets up and walks away as Cosmo sits down across from me.
“Prospect, beer me,” Cosmo says.
Derek is there in a flash with an open beer for him and I watch as Cosmo down half of it in one go. He’s tight. I can see it in his face and the set of his body. He sets the bottle down and looks at me.
“What’s Bala doing here?” I ask.
Cosmo fixes me with a firm stare. “He’s not. And if you’re ever asked, you never saw him here. You got me?”
I drain the last of my beer and set the bottle back down as I nod. “Yeah, I got you,” I tell him. “But what in the hell’s going on?”
Cosmo frowns. “I can’t read you into this yet, kid. Just know there are some pieces being moved around the board and shit might get hairy for a bit.”
“Does this have anything to do Zavala and the cartel?”
“Why would you ask me that?”
I blow out a long breath. and then fill him in on what I saw and did yesterday. He listens to me and, I watch as his face turns red and his jaw clenches tight. I can tell he’s irritated.
“And why didn’t you tell any of us this yesterday?” he asks when I finish.
“Because I can’t say for sure they were Zavala’s guys. I thought it was possible I was just being paranoid,” I say, then add pointedly, “It’s not like I’m being read in on the shit going down, so I can’t know what I’m looking for or not looking for.”
He grimaces. “Touché,” he says, then adds with a grin, “Asshole.”
He sits back in his seat, his face clouding over as he takes a drink of his beer. I don’t have to be a mind reader to know that something bad is coming. Cosmo is processing what I told him, and I can tell he doesn’t like it. He swallows down the last of his beer and sets the bottle down on the table, then gets to his feet.
“This changes things,” he mutters.
“How so?”
The frown on his face deepens, and it seems like he wants to tell me what’s going on, but I know that he can’t. Not until Prophet gives the okay. And if there’s one word to describe Cosmo, it’s loyal. He’s not going to break his oath to Prophet. It’s frustrating as shit, but I can’t fault him for it. He’s a good soldier and a good man like that. Cosmo leans across the table and claps me on the shoulder, staring into my eyes with an expression of earnestness on his face.
“I’ll tell you everything as soon as I’m able to. Until then, just keep your shit tight and your mouth shut. Especially about Bala. He’s risking his own balls to be here right now,” he says.
“You know you can trust me.”
He stands up. “I do. And I appreciate it.”
Cosmo disappears into the Leadership room, sliding the door closed behind him. I grab his bottle and take it behind the bar, dropping it into the recycle bin, then grab a fresh one out of the refrigerator. I pop the top on it and take a swallow, my mind racing as I try to figure out what in the hell is going on.
It’s obviously got something to do with the cartel, but Bala being here adds a wrinkle to this whole thing, and I can’t figure out what that is. The fight with Zavala is ours. What would the Warriors have to gain by throwing in with us? Last I heard, their prez was on good terms with Zavala and they did business together now and then. Neither Bala nor Tarantula seemed especially thrilled with it, but it’s their prez’s call, not theirs. So, why is he here?
“So, are you gonna call her or what?” Derek asks.
