Page 52 of Kings Have No Mercy
I stand next to Tito, and we watch through the plexiglass cutout as he and Velma share an affectionate reunion.
“I’m surprised no conjugal was planned,” Tito jokes.
“I’d prefer that to being here. It’d be enough of a distraction for him.”
“Your old man… he’s complicated. But he loves you. He’s proud of—”
“Don’t start, Tito. I don’t want to hear it.”
Tito lets out a sad puff of air and concedes.
Twenty minutes later, Velma returns and lets us know we’re next.
“You go,” Tito says. “I’ll take whatever time is left to catch up with my friend.”
I wear my irritation on my face as I stalk toward the door.
Tom is already seated. He doesn’t get up as I approach. He studies me, his bright blue eyes emotionless and his hands folded on the table.
I take the seat across from him without a greeting.
He sighs, then presses his lips together, like he’s done before our exchange has even begun.
I’m not cracking. I sit in a relaxed position in the chair, partially reclined and leaned back. I did my part—I came.
The rest is up to him.
“Well?” he says finally. “You gonna speak or stay mute?”
“I’ve got nothing to say.”
“I hear you’ve got plenty at the club. I left you in charge. I expect regular debriefs.”
“Then maybe you should’ve left somebody else in charge.”
Annoyance flashes in his gaze. “Stop behaving like a fucking angsty teenager. We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
“You always say that.”
“”Cuz you don’t seem to understand what’s important—”
“You said that when Mom was alive. And look what happened,” I say over him, raising my voice. “You said that when Logan followed your lead. And look what happened. Sorry if I’ve stopped giving a damn about the bigger fucking fish!”
“You’ll never let that go. It’s been years since they’ve gone.”
“I’m not doing this. I’m done.” I push off the table, getting up to my feet.
Tom rises too from his side of the table. “Mace, will you listen for one god damn second? Just one. Sit.”
I slowly do as requested. Though I won’t for long. “Make it fast.”
“Velma told me she talked to you about the informant,” he whispers, glancing around. “If you ever listen to me… listen this once. We’ve got to find out who it is. We’ve got to… take care of them. You got it?”
“I make no promises. I’ve got my hands full.”
“This matters more than that feud with the Hellrazors. That’s your problem. You lose sight of the important things. Logan would’ve done as I asked. He would’ve already handled it—Mace, get back here!”
“Logan’s gone, Tom!” I yell from over my shoulder as I stalk off. “He’s dead, remember? Just like Mom! Whose fault is that?”