Page 114 of Dirty

He turned around, and tossed a black duffel bag at my feet. It landed with a heavy thud.

“It was about that,” he said, motioning toward the duffel bag.

I looked at it, and then at him. “What is it?”

“It’s a couple Calle 18 heads. We killed a few more of ‘em last night. I put their heads in that bag. Open it up.”

Reluctantly I reached for the bag’s zipper. After taking a deep breath, I pulled it open. Stacks of banded money filled the bag to the top. My eyes slowly widened.

“Holy shit,” I said. “How much is it?”

“That? That’s part of it. After what I got from Lefty’s and what Tree Top got from the other place, we had quite a bit.”

I took another look, and then zipped the bag. After checking over each shoulder I attempted to kick the bag toward him, but failed miserably, almost falling on my ass in the process.

“So, what was the meeting about?” I asked, feeling like I got an incomplete answer the first time.

“Trying to decide what to do with the money,” he said.

I nodded. “And why wasn’t I here?”

“I needed to get answers without you mean-mugging the fellas into submission.”

I envisioned a new shop with lifts, a paint booth, and a soda machine that was filled with beer.

“What did they say?”

“Hell, I would have settled for 51%,” he said. “But the club voted, and it was unanimous.”

“What’d they decide?”

“Decided that bag in front of you is yours, Brother.”

My heart raced, but I knew it was a joke. There had to be well over a hundred grand in the bag. That amount of money would get me so close to buying a house I could taste it.

“What’d they really decide?” I asked.

Pee Bee cleared his throat. “Club voted, Cholo. Decided the men who took the risks get the reward. Men who risked it in this was the eleven that went and got those girls out, and then me and Crip coming to get you, and then all of us going to Lefty’s shop. That’s what they decided. That’s your cut.”

I looked at Crip. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “It’s yours, Brother. Can’t argue with a unanimous vote.”

He was right. The bylaws were clear.

But, I had to know.

“How. How uhhm. How much is it?”

“Your cut?” he asked.

I nodded.

“That’s $980,000, give or take. We were here half the fucking night counting it.”

It didn’t make sense. I looked at the bag, and then at each of them.

“Was about $1,200,000 total. Man who risked the most got paid the most. Each of us got $20,000. There’s eleven of us.” He walked toward me. When he reached me, he patted me on the shoulder. “And Brother, there’s only one of you. Appreciate ya, Cholo. You’re one tough son-of-a-filthy-fucking-bitch.”