Page 17 of Down & Dirty: Rage
“Of?”
“The Twisted Souls. They’re already rollin’ through ourterritory. Followed them a little bit to see if they stopped anywhere.”
Zeke wasn’t the only one who had a sighting of the Souls. Rage met four of them face-to-face. “Did they?”
“No, they kept movin’.”
“Damn smart on their part.”
“Smart would be them not enterin’ our territory at all.”
“Ain’t gonna get an argument ‘bout that.”
Zeke continued. “Talked to Romeo again to give him an update. They’re gonna keep an eye out and report back if they see anything. Bottom line is, they don’t want those fuckers anywhere near our territory, either. Think they’re finally gettin’ the picture. What threatens us is eventually gonna threaten them.”
“Gonna handle ‘em if they do.”
Zeke shook his head. “After seein’ what you look like after handlin’ one fuckin’ drunk?”
“Handle drunks all the fuckin’ time.”
“Looks like you got handled this time instead.”
Rage really needed to tell Zeke the truth. He’d gotten into it with plenty of belligerent customers in the past. But not last night.
Or the night before that.
“That why you stopped in?”
“Nah. Stopped in to grab some scratch out of the kitty.” Zeke pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket to show Rage what he took. “The Iron Horse was wiped clean.”
“’Cause you keep cleanin’ out the till?”
One side of Zeke’s mouth hiked up. “Gotta make scratch somehow. Got a woman and kid to support.”
“Kyra makes decent scratch.”
“Yeah, and? I’m her ol’ man.”
“You don’t even fuckin’ pay rent in that cabin.”
“Three year olds are fuckin’ expensive.”
“So are thirty-two year olds.”
“All right. I’m outta here. Just wanted to let you know those fuckers been spotted.” Zeke spun on his heel and headed back the way he came in.
“That news ain’t worth shit if we don’t have a fuckin’ plan to deal with ‘em,” Rage shouted at his back.
Zeke flicked two fingers over his shoulder as he disappeared.
They really needed to come up with a fucking plan soon. A plan that wouldn’t start World War III and cause a shitload of death and destruction.
Rage wished he had a fucking answer on how to go about that. Dealing with an outlaw MC was one thing. Dealing with the Mafia was another.
Dealing with both would be motherfucking crazy.
He grabbed his mug and ducked back behind the bar to top off his coffee. One mug this morning wasn’t going to do it. A dozen might scratch the surface.
