Page 116 of Nuts

“Wait. What? A few months?”

“Yep.”

“You’ve had this guy in a metal box in the desert for a few months?”

“That’s what Smokey said. I give the fucker food and water. I’m not a damned fool.”

“I know you’re not. But having a federal agent in a metal box for a few months, regardless of where you’re keeping him, isn’t a great idea. It’s a tremendous risk. It’s quiet out there at night. There’s the noise, the smell, you’ve got to be coming and going, what, daily?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“And, you’re not worried about getting caught?”

“Not really.”

I knew being with a 1%er would eventually expose me to some craziness, but I had no idea a federal agent in a box in the desert would be the first thing I would be forced to deal with. Nonetheless, I was committed to the cause.

“Okay.” I shook my head. “So, what’s your question?”

“What should I do with him?”

It wasn’t an easy question to answer. I picked at my cold food for a moment and thought of what our options might be. I had no idea what brought about the series of events that led up to him being in the box. Knowing that would be crucial to developing an accurate response.

“What event or events brought him to you?”

“Club business, can’t say.”

“But you having him isn’t club business?”

“Club don’t know about it.”

“They have no idea?”

“None.”

“Not even Crip?”

“Nobody. Just Smoke, but that was off the record. He knows as a friend, not as a brother. Brother half of him is dumb to the fact.”

“Okay. So, the federal agent did something to the club or one of its members. In an effort to protect your brothers, you kidnapped him, and kept it to yourself. Probably because you didn’t want to ask permission – or you didn’t want to be denied permission. Now, you’ve got him in a box in the desert. Oh, and you can’t decide what to do with him. Is that close?”

“You’re pretty damned good, except for the desert part. He’s by the desert, not in it.”

I grinned. It wasn’t planned, and I know I shouldn’t have, but I did. I was in love with a modern-day version of my father. Percy was doing whatever he must to protect his brethren, and he wanted no recognition for doing so.

“We have two options. Kill him, or let him go. That’s it.”

“Kind of what I figured. I can’t keep him forever.”

“Yeah. He’s not a kitten.”

“Smoke said the same thing. Except he said puppy.”

“Does Smokey want to kill him?”

He seemed to consider my question for a while before responding. He shoved the dollar bill into his pocket and met my gaze. “Yep.”

“And, you don’t.”