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A few days later, Max stared down at the man sitting on the chair in front of him. He’d been caught trying to steal from Max, and had been feeding information to some people who didn’t really care for Max. That shit was never a good thing, so he had to pay.
“Boss, you shouldn’t be here,” his right-hand man called out to him.
Looking over his shoulder at his second in command, he lifted one eyebrow. Nicholas ‘Nico’ Mitchell had been by his side since the age of fourteen. Both had been little punks running the streets at the same time they were running pockets.
Nico was his brother. If not by birth, then by blood, sweat, and murder. There was no one he trusted more. The man had saved his life more times than he could count. Even taken a bullet or two on occasion. He only called him boss when the other guys were around, and probably because he knew Max hated that shit. They were partners, always had been. Max was just the designated face of the operation.
Max knew it could have just as easily been Nico calling the shots, except Nico had no desire to be the head of the spear. His longtime friend preferred to be the one using the power of the spear to rip motherfuckers apart.
“Yeah, I know. But I wanted to see the face of the piece of shit who thought to turn against me.”
Kicking the man who sat there resembling the loser of a fight with a champion mixed martial arts fighter, Max felt the urge to put a bullet in the guy’s brain for fucking GP.
“Look at me,” he yelled at the bloodied man.
When no answer was forthcoming, he called out to his right-hand man. “What’s his name, Nico?”
“Tommy.”
As he raised his face to look at Max, the man called Tommy began to cry. Which just pissed him off even more.
“Listen, Tommy. Don’t bitch up now. You were man enough to turn on me. There were no tears then.” When the man continued crying, Max motioned to one of the guys standing around. “Shut him up.” Turning away, he began walking toward Nico, who was standing off to the side.
Blocking Nico’s smiling face from everyone else, Max couldn’t help but crack a smile himself. All that crying bullshit was enough to wake the fucking dead. Good thing they were in a secluded spot with reinforced walls.
“Stop laughing, Nico. This motherfucker is getting on my damn nerves. I’m ready to put a bullet in his head just for the hell of it.”
“Told you to leave. You know I’m more used to this than you are.” Shrugging his shoulders, he looked over Max’s shoulder. “Shit doesn’t even bother me anymore.”
“Dude, he pissed himself,” he loudly whispered. “What the fuck is that?” Rolling his eyes comically, Max almost wanted to laugh. Motherfuckers were nothing like in the good old days. Back then, if you got caught, you went out with your chin up, eyes promising retribution, and cursing the man’s mother.
Nowadays, the ones claiming to be the hardest dudes on the block were the main ones begging for mercy. Pleading with them not to kill them because of how sorry they were. Took all the damn fun out of it.
Then again, maybe he’d become too damn cynical after all these years.
He should be angrier at the situation, but the only emotion he could conjure up was boredom, until the guy started crying and pleading. Then the shit had turned funny. Looking down at his watch, he noted the time. He had a date with Kiana tonight that he didn’t want to miss. He caught the tail end of Nico’s comments.
“That tends to happen when they know a bullet is about to be implanted in their brain.” His friend inhaled deeply, getting back to the business at hand. “So, here’s what you need to know. He was giving information to the guys in Philly.”
“Fuck,” Max hissed. His mind immediately began coming up with scenarios to squash any issues that came from this snitch bitch opening his mouth. “Do they know anything specific?”
“He gave them low-level shit. He’d been following Christopher around, helping him with clean-up. Christopher started getting a feeling that this guy Tommy was a little too interested in the details, so he started fucking with him. Feeding him half-ass information. It worked.”
“He’s a good kid, Nico. I know you’re comfortable with this decision, but does your sister know how far in he is with us?”
“No. We’re keeping that under wraps. For now, the story is he works with us at the limo and car service company.” Glancing at his nephew, Nico nodded. “You and I have been able to keep this life out of the public eye for all these years. I’ll teach Christopher to do the same before he gets any deeper.”
Nodding, Max agreed with his friend. They were still the ones running the show, but grooming Christopher wasn’t a bad idea. Neither he nor Nico had kids. They were too busy creating their business, keeping hard-fought truces intact, and building a wall between the two worlds that could withstand any storm.
Everything they’d built over the years wouldn’t have been possible without those who’d invested time and energy into teaching them the game. They’d learned things from people that helped them become the men they are today. Their time on the streets hadn’t been all fun and games. There were always rules that needed to be followed:
Never get sloppy.
Business always comes first.
Don’t get on the cops’ radar—not even for a speeding ticket.
