Page 61 of Kings Don't Break

What does he have planned this time? What else is he going to do other than cancel Mama’s insurance and demand I return him the Geo Metro?

“You alright?” Blake asks as we brake for a stoplight.

I put on a strained smile as my answer on the outside. On the inside, I’m still feeling broken.

13

BLAKE

“Listen up, shitheads!” Ozzie yells at the crowded bar room floor. “Meetings about to start, motherfuckers! We’ve got some real important shit going down, so clean that wax outta your ears and pay attention!”

Mace scrubs a hand over his brow as if pained by a terrible headache. “Ozzie, that’s not what I meant when I said get the meeting started and you fucking know it.”

In typical class clown fashion, Ozzie flashes Mace a smile. “But it got their attention. That’s all that matters, right?”

Several of the guys around the room boo him. A couple chuck crumpled napkins at him. He takes it in stride, his smile only growing as he opens his arms up for a hug.

“I love you shitheads too!”

“Down to business.” Mace rises up from his seat at the head table and peers around at the room of Steel Kings gathered for our monthly meeting. “The rumors are out there. You’ve probably heard about the shit that’s knocking at our door.”

“Is it true?” calls out Ulysses “Mudd” Rudley from his table. His moniker matches his grungy, grimy appearance. Including the crumbs of food trapped in his beard. “Is the law cracking down on us?”

Murmurs break out among some of the guys. Some angrier and more militant than others.

“Hey!” Mace yells over everybody. “Did I tell you to break off in side chatter like a bunch of gossiping hens? Shut the hell up and listen to the bottom line.”

“Told you,” Ozzie coughs. “Shitheads.”

“It’s impossible to say all of what they do know. Stein’s insider knows for a fact they’re building some kinda case. Fallout from the feud with the Hellrazors and Road Rebels.”

“They don’t got shit,” Mudd rasps to a few chortles from the others.

Mace gestures to me. “Cash, tell ’em the rest.”

Everybody’s attention shifts. I’ve been seated at the head table all along, more silent observer than participant. I stand up and get straight to the point.

“I’ve got reason to believe the boys in blue are already watching us.”

“And you know that how?” asks Johnny Flanagan, tipping back in his chair, arms crossed.

“Because there’s a new sergeant on the force by the name of Ken Stricklin, and he’s a piece of shit.”

“This about that chick you’ve got at the Chop Shop? The one from our school days?” Flanagan says with a curl of his lips. “That sure sounds like personal beef, Cash. Why should I care if some chick got in a little scuffle with her husband?”

“I never said you should care, Flanagan,” I say, my patience lost. “But you keep referring to Kori out of her name, you’re gonna find my boot lodged up your ass.”

The room erupts in laughs at Flanagan’s expense. He falls silent for the rest of the meeting.

“Like I was saying, Stricklin and the rest of ‘em have us on their radar. Which means anything we do is gonna have to be careful. Well thought out.”

“Let me guess,” Bush chimes in, slamming down his beer stein. “We’re going to be doing some shady nocturnal activities.”

“That sounds pretty damn accurate,” says Ozzie.

“We’ll have to be smart about it. Strategic in any steps we make.”

Mudd strokes his knotted beard as if unsure. “So have we set up our next deal with the Barreras? Our partnership with ’em is still rocky. Haven’t forgotten about that last time they tried to short us on some trank. If we know the law’s got an eye on us, is it worth the trouble?”