Grimm takes a step closer and holds up his phone. We can't see it from here, but he's playing the video of Dillard shooting the other cop. “Would be a real shame if this got out.”
“Where the hell did you get this? You know what else would be a real shame? If I shot you dead here and claimed self-defense.” Dillard draws his gun and points it right at Grimm.
Grimm only laughs. He fucking steps right up to the gun barrel, leaving it to push into his chest. Fucker's got balls, I'll give him that. “Anything happens to me and this video ends up everywhere. You know who else has this? Where I got it? The Outlaw Sons. Andthey're pissed, real pissed. They know who you are now, and they know what you did to Georgia. Did you know her sister is fucking the Sons? You messed up when you went after their woman, but for the right price, I might be able to make that go away.”
The gun wavers. “Why would I trust you? You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“Used to be. Had a difference of opinion a while back, but they asked for my help about five months ago. Know what I got for it? My friend killed and being treated like a second class citizen in their stupid fucking club. You want this problem to go away, and I want to stick it to the fuckers who killed my friend. Hellfire talks a big game, but he’s a fucking pussy when it comes down to it. General would’ve shot me, but Hellfire gave me access to the whole fucking compound because he’s a sap.”
Beside me, Hellfire growls low in his throat, like an angry lion.
“What that dumbfuck doesn't realize is that I know how to get to their servers and make all of this go away. You'd never have to fucking worry about anyone finding out, ever again.”
Dillard doesn't drop his gun, but he's looking like he's thinking and not about to gun down Grimm. “And that is going to cost me what?”
“Twenty grand, cash.”
“I’m a cop. Where do you think I’m going to get that from?”
“Not my damn problem.” Grimm shrugs. “You’re a dirty fucking cop, I’m sure it pays better or what’s the point? I need enough to get out of town and start over. Up to you how much your career is worth. I'll find some other way to bring Hellfire down if you don't wanna play. I don't think you're gonna fucking shoot me, not out here in the open.”
“I'll just say you attacked me. They'd believe me about a filthy fucking Outlaw Son.”
“Not one of them, remember?” He turns and points at his back. No patch, see?” Then he points up at the building. “And there's a camera there that'll show you gunning me down. Are you still sure about that? Hell, they've already got you with your gun out, but as long as no one gives them reason to go looking through the footage, no one's ever gonna know.”
Dillard sighs. “You can definitely wipe that video from their systems?”
“Fucking positive. Hellfire talks a big game, but they’re a bunch of trusting idiots once you’re in. It's easy enough to access and delete.”
Hellfire cracks his knuckles. Insulting him is one thing, and bad enough, but disrespecting the club? They're gonna have words.
“I'm gonna need a couple of days to get the money. How do I contact you?”
Jackpot.
“That's the neat thing. You don't. I'll contact you in two days and we’ll figure out where to meet and make the transaction.” Grimm starts walking away.
“How do I know you'll do your part?” Dillard looks real frustrated about having the lower hand in the negotiations. “I need some kind of insurance.”
“Got my word.”
Dillard scoffs.
Grimm stops and looks over his shoulder. “Can you afford not to trust me?”
There's a tense silence, then he nods. “Fine. Call me in two days.”
“Excellent. Nice talking to ya.” Grimm waves without even looking back, then gets on his bike and rides off. It fucking worked. Hell, it's worth it just to see the angry look on Dillard's face as he watches Grimm leave. Once Dillard gets in his car and leaves, we wait a little longer, before Lash drives us back to the club.
When we get there, Grimm's waiting for us, grinning from ear to ear. “How was that, huh? Do I get the fucking Oscar?”
“I should fucking beat you down right here,” Hellfire snarls.
Grimm laughs. “I had to play my role. He wouldn't have believed me otherwise. Why, you wanna duke it out?” He steps away from his bike and loosens his wrists.
Hellfire looks damn tempted, but he shakes his head. “The job was done. You're an asshole, but we got what we needed. Go get drunk at the Burnout. Put it on my tab.”
The rest clear out, leaving just me, Stiff and Lash. Lash looks at the clubhouse as Hellfire disappears through the front door. “Fucking tense. Do we have everything we need?”