“Not my name, so I know it’s not very fucking good.” We both crack up before I climb out and get dressed. Slipping into my cut off shorts, crop top, and knee-high boots I step in front of the mirror. I reach up and wipe the steam from the glass before tying my hair up on the top of my head. Jackson starts singing in the shower, which makes me smile. I throw on some makeup, then reach over and flush the toilet before I leave the bathroom.
“Goddamn it Whitley… you’re going to pay for that shit!” Jackson yells at me.
“I hope you make it good!” I yell back before I head out the door.
Chapter 5
Mason
Viking laughs, tipping the beer bottle up to his lips as I pull the trigger once more. If I wasn’t such a bastard, this wouldn’t be as funny as it is.
“Do it again,” Viking encourages me. Shaking my head, I raise my gun and fire one more time. Watching the prospect jump around so he doesn’t get hit with one of the bullets, is just a little bit amusing. The dumb fucker shot himself not even a month ago. This is just our little way to fuck with him. If you can’t clean your gun, you sure as shit don’t need to shoot one.
“That motherfucker needs to go,” I mumble as I bring my beer to my lips.
“He does. I was thinkin’ of callin’ a vote, bringin’ it to church. What do you think?” I turn my head and look at Prez while giving him a shrug.
“He’s pretty fun to play with,” Viking laughs.
“I was thinkin’ about that load comin’ in from Columbia. Nathan, from port authority called and he’s got shit wrapped up for a few days. I wanna move it out as quickly as possible. Last time we held onto it the damn Narcs almost caught wind of it. You think we can get Wild Style to move it for us?” he asks. I nod my head and watch as the prospect picks up trash stuffing it into a bag.
“Don’t see why not. Mac’s always lookin’ to move powder. He’s got some shit set up with the college boys. Motherfucker’s got an in with all those high-class users,” I tell him with a chuckle.
“Fuck, maybe we’re in the wrong line, brother? We need to move in on the rich folks,” Viking laughs.
“Heard that. Mac seems to do pretty well with that shit.” I lay my head back and let the hot Miami sun beat down on my face. I thought about leaving; about getting the hell out of here and maybe heading to another chapter. California with the Soulless Bastards wouldn’t be a bad place. Hell, Chicago wouldn’t be bad either, but I don’t like the fucking cold. I could never leave my boys though. They mean the world to me and even when I’m falling apart, they seem to know how to hold me together. Well, for the most part anyways.
“You good for the run, man?” Viking turns his head to look at me as he asks. I nod.
“Yeah, I’m runnin’ by Joe’s later to check in with him. I know he’s got some new bitches workin’ there, and I wanna make sure there won’t be any problems with him holdin’ for us,” I tell him.
“New bitches? What happened to the old bitches?”
“That’s what they were brother, old. Supposedly, he has some young ones now. Probably so fuckin’ doped up they wouldn’t even notice how much shit we store in there.” Viking curses under his breath before shoving out of his chair.
“That shit right there isn’t good, brother. When they’re fucked out of their minds on your shit, they always seem to want just a little more. Hope to hell Joe knows what the fuck he’s doin’ with them,” he snaps before walking toward the clubhouse. I let that play out in my head. He’s right about that part. When they use, they tend to keep using. Not that I give a shit that the bartenders are fucked out of their minds, as long as they can serve a drink and know when enough is enough. That’s all I care about.
Shoving out of my chair, I turn and head toward the clubhouse behind Viking. As soon as I step inside, it feels like home, I’m home. Of course,