AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’re looking robust, Redford. Some guys get out of the clank, all scrawny and lean, but you’re fucking big. One of my boys said they ran into you up in Idaho. Slim Tim is what he goes by.” Harry cracks a yellow smile, puffing out a cloud of smoke. He has twin silver braids resting on his drooping shoulders.
Slim Tim was bunked three cells down from me. He seemed to know everyone. He was a rare breed who didn’t have enemies on either side, just contacts without any clear loyalties or gang affiliation. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s involved with Old Harry.
“He’s in for another ten, right?” I ask.
Harry nods, tapping the ash into a tray. “Yep. He’s more useful on the inside anyway. Man knows everyone.”
“And seemed to piss off none.”
Harry chuckles, his raspy voice on the verge of lung cancer. “So, he tells me you made some powerful friends behind bars. I’ve always said, if I were to ever get in the clank, I’d make good use of the time.”
My eyes stay steady on Harry’s. I know he’s waiting for my expression to give something away. I made more friends than enemies, but that doesn’t mean circumstances won’t change on a whim. I’ve never liked Old Harry, though he’s mostly harmless and my father’s friend.
“Couldn’t get my ice cream fix without making a few buddies, now could I?” I fold my arms over my chest.
The blond server returns with our drinks, leaning over unnecessarily far in front of me, her chest spilling out of her top as she sets the glass down. For a moment, I consider taking her back to the ranch and exploring her body. It’s been years, literally, since I’ve felt a woman’s warmth.
“Well, any flavor of ice cream you want is readily available when you have the right connections, Redford. A few things have changed since you were locked up.” Harry leans forward, his weathered skin telling the story of years of sun damage and smoke inhalation.
“Cash handled things well. We’re operating at full capacity.”
Harry presses his elbows into the table. “Yes, but are you making your full income potential? There’s always room for improvement.”
I don’t respond, waiting for my brother to step forward and give his input. Cash isn’t outspoken. He’s the silent type, but he gets shit done without needing to be loud. After a few seconds pass, he senses me waiting on him and turns to Harry.
“Your interest in Redford Ranch isn’t new. We don’t need your dirty money. You wanna buy some bulls, then we’ll talk.” Cash sounds bored.
He kept me up-to-date on all things business behind bars, but Old Harry’s propositions weren’t something he felt were worth mentioning. I trust he had a good reason for it.
Harry’s eyes shine brighter. “This isn’t about my investment in The Riders, although that offer will never be off the table. I’m talking about a product. Something every rancher who wants to be the top producer in the next five years is getting their hands on. Something you can only get if you know someone. I’m offering you boys a deal, the deal of a fucking lifetime. Your generation could be the one to make or break the Redford Ranch name.”
“What is it you’re so keen on us purchasing? I used up all my patience in prison, so make it quick.” I take a swig of the whiskey, the burn feeling good down my throat. I know whatever the hell he says, we’re not interested.
Harry leans back, swiftly attempting to get back in control of the conversation. “You’re either going to jump on this train while it’s moving slow enough down the tracks for new passengers or it’s going to fly by you in a flash. You’ll miss your chance if you wait.”
He’s beginning to sound like a door-to-door knife salesman, and I’m getting really fucking tired of it.
“Spit it out, or let us go get fucked up in your bar,” Sterling says, annoyance in his tone.
Harry reaches under the table for something. My muscles tense as I take a defensive stance, pushing back from the table. Cash and Sterling both draw their weapons, aiming them straight for the old man. Harry chuckles, waving at us with his hand, lazy cigarette smoke trailing toward the ceiling.
“Gentlemen, I give you M-59.” He reveals a small black plastic case. He unsnaps the sides of the case, revealing a massive syringe. It’s half an inch thick, filled with red liquid. The needle is far too big to be used on a human.
I release the tension from my shoulders, but I don’t reclaim my place closer to the table. Cash and Sterling lower their guns.
“What’s M-59?” Cash asks.
Harry’s face is giddy with excitement as he rubs his hands together.
“It’s a genetically engineered steroid, created to make cattle gain weight at a rapid rate. The calves you’re selling at auction next month for feed? They’ll gain fifty to one hundred pounds after fourteen days of this. You multiply that by however many thousand heads you’re auctioning off, and you boys will make yourself a six-figure Christmas bonus—in the middle of the summer.” Harry grins, running his tongue over his straw-colored teeth with excitement.
I toss the rest of my drink back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I stand up. “And if this shit works so fucking perfectly, why the hell wouldn’t the FDA approve it? If it was legit, we could get it at the vet.”
Harry shakes his head, coming to a stand. “It’ll get approved, but by that time, you’ll be too far behind to catch up. The government takes years to pass these things through the lab rats. Then, they jack up the price so high and get ninety percent of the profits. If you don’t jump on the horse now, boys, you’ll be too far behind to catch up.” He repeats. “Think about it and take the sample. Test it on one of your runts and see just how damn powerful this shit really is. They ship it up from Mexico, so we need some time to get enough for a herd your size.”
He comes around the table, handing Cash the box. He grins, wrapping his arm around the blond server as he leads us toward another door. Country music pours through it as we get closer.
“You boys tell Billy Bob your tab is on mine tonight, okay? Don’t get into too much trouble out there.”
