Page 84 of Chains
“And they only had three people in the cage. What the fuck’s that all about?” Diablo said in a gruff voice.
“Maybe they don’t know those cages can fit seven assholes,” Paco said, and the bikers chuckled. “They’re almost at the door, so let’s take our positions.”
Diablo stayed in one corner of the room, Eagle took the opposite one, and Chains and Paco stood at the back; all men had their weapons drawn. Muerto, Goldie, and Army stood in the doorway of each room with assault rifles ready to fire.
The door creaked open.
“Fuck, it’s dark in here. The old man’s losing it,” a deep voice said as a medium-sized man walked into the room. “Put on some fucking lights.”
One of the other men groped along the wall, but before he found the light switch, Chains flipped on the solitary bulb overhead.
“What the fuck?” the medium-sized man said, his deep-set eyes scanning the room.
“Where the fuck’s Gary?” Paco growled.
“My dad’s sick. He sent me. I’m Eric.” The man extended his hand, but none of the bikers took it, and he let it drop limply down by his side. “Did you bring the weed?”
“The rest of your people keep their fucking asses in the cars. If anyone gets out, the deal’s off,” Paco said.
Eric’s eyes narrowed. “No fucking way. I’m not sticking around here without some backup.”
“Why do you need backup?” Chains asked.
The vein in Eric’s right temple bulged. “Because I’ve never done business with you guys. I don’t know if you’re going to rip me off.”
“If you did your fuckin’ homework, you’d know our reputation,” Diablo grumbled.
“This isn’t negotiable—either they stay out or we’re done here,” Paco said.
Eric glared, his gaze bouncing around the room as he fidgeted in place. “At least put those guns down.”
Chains grinned. “No fuckin’ way.”
“We’re here for business, not talking. Do you have the money?” Paco asked.
“Yes, but I want to see the product first.”
Paco nodded, then bent down with his gaze still fixed on Eric and the two men behind him and unzipped a duffel bag, taking out several large bags of pot. “We got four hundred pounds of pot, a hundred and fifty pounds of edibles, and fifty pounds of hash oil. That’s what the old man ordered.” Paco stood up, his gaze narrowing. “Now show us the fucking money.”
Eric licked his lips. “It’s in one of the SUVs.”
Paco’s remote radio crackled, and he brought it to his ear. “Yeah?”
Crow’s deep voice hissed over the remote. “There’re about ten fuckers getting outta the SUVs.”
“Hang on.” Paco turned to Eric. “Tell them to get their fucking asses back in the cages, or things aren’t going to turn out so well.”
Eric paused.
“Do itnow, asshole,” Chains said.
“And you better show me the fucking money, or this deal is off,” Paco gritted.
Eric held up his hands. “Okay, take it easy. I just wasn’t sure what was going down so that’s why—”
“What the fuck doesthatmean? We made a damn deal with Gary. Your old man was cool with it. What the hell are you saying?” Chains took a few steps toward Eric. “You’re stalling and that can only mean one thing—you don’t have the fuckin’ money.”
“Orallof it,” Eagle added.
