Page 59 of Existential
I walk inside having caught Dagne look across to where I stand, and with the weight of all my lies and mistruths weighing heavily on my shoulders, I shut the solid doors to seal us all in.
“I’m purely here to mediate,” King starts as I take my seat at the opposite end. “This table is yours, but if I feel any of you aren’t gettin’ a fair say, I’ll step in.”
“Thank you,” I respond, pulling the focus to my end. Breathe. “Normally, I would have started this with a rundown of events, but I understand you got that from the horse’s mouth this time.” I meet the hard gaze of my second in command, Crackers, as he waits patiently for me to say my piece. “Anybody unclear on the details? I guess we’ll take this one question at a time.”
Crackers indicates he’d like to speak, so I give him the nod while trying to decipher if my sweaty palms are from nerves or the fact I haven’t had a hit of anything illicit in over a day.
“How long has this been an issue?” Crackers stares at his hands clasped on the table before him. “When did the asshole first approach you?”
“Three months ago.”
I don’t miss the flare of his nostrils, or the murmur from a couple of the others. My stomach twists, and I reach instinctively for my tinderbox—the one I lost a week ago.
“And you thought it best not to bring the problem to the table, because …?”
I stare Crackers down, willing him to look up and see my conviction as I answer. “I thought it would blow over soon enough, that the guy was bluffing.” He refuses to meet my eye.
“What did he have over you?” Digits asks. “He wasn’t real clear on that.”
His tone, the glint in his eye as he digs for more dirt: this fucker isn’t on side. Noted.
“When Carlos paid for Mel’s head,” I explain, “he had contingencies in place to know the job had been done. I had to follow through with somethin’, otherwise he would have known we got her to skip town.”
“So what if he did?” Jo Jo asks. “Mel was out of town. What could he do?”
I frown at the idiot before realizing he never met the psycho nut job of a drug lord. He’s only heard stories, and until you’ve seen the result of those urban legends in the flesh, it’s easy to pretend they’re over inflated hype.
“He would have picked apart our club, our families, our children, until he found out where she was.”
Crackers nods in agreement. “He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d let you make a fool of him. Something had to be done.” It’s not news to him—he helped me execute the idea.
“What did you do?” Digits asks.
“Found another body to take the role.” I can’t say it, can’t admit what I did out loud. Killed somebody else. Sick fucks that deserve to die? Yeah, I’ll take them out without hesitation. But some vagrant bitch too hooked on her habit to recognize the signs of a trap when they were presented to her? Makes me fucking scum for taking advantage of her downfall, that’s what.
“So, this guy, Jessup,” Jo Jo asks. “He found out what you did?”
“They found the body while searching for something else. DNA came back, and what do you know, the belongings didn’t match the body.”
“She was in Dana’s clothes,” Crackers clarifies.
“He had that swingin’ over your head, huh?” Digits taps the table with his fingertips, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah. Look, I get why you were concerned that I kept it to myself, how it looks, but—”
“How does it look?” Digits asks with an undertone that has even King straightening in his seat.
“As though I’m guilty. As though,” I say, leaning forward, “I was prepared to cave.” Digits smirks, eyes still on the table. “But you knew that. Everyone at this fuckin’ table could work that out, so why ask?”
He twists to open fire with a barrage of insults or the like, yet King steps in, slamming the heel of his hand on the table. “Stick to the subject, huh?”
Crackers eyes Digits, a silent caution passing between them. Makes me wonder what’s been going down in my absence. “What is it he wanted from you?” Crackers asks, returning his focus to me.
“The details on whoever is taking our buyers. The DEA is putting the coke into circulation to uncover people of interest, but this time it backfired. They don’t like having egg on their face when some anonymous boss has one over them by being untraceable.”
“But we don’t know who’s takin’ it, either. So why grill us?”
“I strung him along; made him think I could find out.” I lean back, still keeping a cautious eye on Digits as I answer Crackers. “I thought I’d see if he gave me anything we could use.”