Page 62 of Property of Rattler

The two tech geniuses disappear out the door, and I sit back, taking a moment. For the first time in hours, I think we’ve got a plan that might actually work.

Thank fuck for Pippa. And thank fuck Saint made her his old lady, rather than killing her as had been the suggestion at the time. Extracting my phone from my cut, I power it on, then stare at the digits I’m going to have to dial, gathering my thoughts. I’ve got one chance for this to work.

Saint meets my eyes, and he raises his chin. It’s okay for him to indicate he’s got confidence in me, when my next words could mean the difference between our brother living or dying tonight. Steeling myself, I take a deep breath, then hit the keys. It’s a quarter to midnight, and he’ll be expecting Ames’s call.

I dial.

“Amethyst?” Of course, a prick like him would call her by her full name.

“You're speaking to Bullseye, Prez of the Kings of Anarchy Arizona chapter. I want my man returned.”

There’s a snort of laughter. “Of course you do. But we don’t always get what we want, do we? See, I want to talk to my sister.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. Your sister injured herself running away from the cabin. She’s also distraught at not knowing whether her husband is dead or alive.”

“I’m not kidding, Bullseye. You did say that was your name, didn’t you? I’ll send your man back to you one piece at a time. As I warned, I might start with his dick, just to show my sister how serious I am.”

I doubt I’m the only man at this table who has to resist the urge to reach down and cast a protective hand around their junk.

“As I was saying.” I try to keep my voice calm. “Amethyst was in such a state that our on-call medic gave her a heavy dose of sedative. She won’t come around until the morning.”

“You’re lying. Get her on this phone now.”

“Nah.” I wince at the shouted curse that comes over the line. And even more at yet another threat to Rat. Knowing I’ve got to use my powers of persuasion like never before, I still try to maintain a professional tone. “Think we can help each other out, Stone. Seems we’ve got something you want, and you’ve got something of mine. How about we cut the crap and talk about an exchange? Your sister for my man.”

There’s silence, then, “I’m listening.”

“This is only going to work if I get my man back whole,” I warn.

“Well, you’ve got his finger. Maybe you can sew that back on.” He gives a cackle that could have come from any evil cartoon character.

“It’s fuckin’ late. We’ve been having a party. I haven’t got any sober men to provide an escort. You’ll have to give me a few hours for them to sleep it off, then I’ll drop you a pin of a neutral location. We trade and both get what we want.”

“Prez, no!” An agonised shout comes from the background.

Rattler’s alive! For now, at least.Fuck, Rat. Fuckin’ trust me.But of course, I can’t send a telepathic message down the line, and I hear the sound of something hitting flesh, and a barely stifled grunt from our brother.

“I told you no further damage,” I growl.

“What can I say? He’s an annoying fucker.”

Yeah, but he’s ours. “We got a deal?” I press.

I hear an intake of breath. “Not sure I’m buying it. You really going to let me walk away with Amethyst after I’ve mutilated your man?”

“If you only stop at his finger.” I add more than a hint of menace to my voice. Then

I sigh heavily and loudly so it can be heard at the other end of the phone. “Truth? Rattler’s a pain in my ass. The loss of his finger might just help him understand he should keep his dick in his pants.”

It goes quiet again. So quiet, I wonder if he’s ended the connection. But the phone still shows the call as live. I wait him out.

“Fine,” he snarls. “Send me the fucking pin. And no later than eight o’clock tomorrow morning, or your man can kiss his body parts goodbye. And you better make sure Amethyst is there, drugged up or not.”

Now there’s no doubting it. He’s hung up.

“And that’s the way you fuckin’ do it!” Saint pronounces as the room bursts into cheers.

Me though? I think it’s far too soon to celebrate.