Marcus sits a little straighter in the chair Dog bought for me to read my mystery novels in a few months back. He leans down and cracks his knuckles, showing me the bulky rings that adorn his fingers. “What do you want, Gamble? For old times sake, how about we cut to the chase?”
“Fine with me. Why are your boys selling dope with the RBMC logo on it? More importantly, what’re you lacing that shit with? It’s killing innocent people.”
Marcus cackles and stands up from the chair. “C’mon, Gamble. You can’t be serious. None of them are innocent. They’re leeches on society.”
“Leeches we make a profit off of,” I correct him.
“You made a profit. Past tense. Word on the street is you’re selling some nasty stuff. I mean, Gamble, you should know when to stop. From the sounds of it you’re killing people. How can you deal with that on your precious conscience?”
I scoot off the bed and walk straight over to him, pressing the end of my gun between his eyes. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t pull the trigger right now.”
Marcus peers up at me through his thick lashes and lets out a whistle, “I’m one of the only friends you have left. Don’t you see that?”
“What’re you talkin’ about?”
“Gamble, you aren’t dumb. The other Kings want you dead.” Marcus is referencing to the Kings of Baltimore. There are four major gangs here. Marcus’ gang, the Hoodrats. Darnell runs MD-14, their name in honor of the 14 who started the gang. The man who runs the Hidden Brothers hasn’t been named, but Marcus’ cousin Jamal runs the Ratkillers. Each of them has a specific part of the city. Now, Highlandtown is arguably in the east or south side but because we’ve been here for so long I don’t get shit from Jamal or whoever the leader of the Hidden Brothers is.
“Why would they want me dead?”
“It’s pretty obvious. You fuck with our business too much. Plus, you gotta snatch and no man wants other women thinkin’ they can rise up and lead like you are.”
“You know, you’re sucking at trying to convince me not to shoot you.”
“I’m bein’ honest with you is all. Don’t you want that?”
“I want you to run back to the other fuckin’ Kings and let them know I’m not a threat. I have my own fish to fry. You get me? None of you are on my radar.”
Marcus blinks a half dozen times before he responds, “You see, that’s exactly what my cousin said. We aren’t in your sights . . . yet, but there will come a time when we are.”
“Last I heard you and Jamal were at each other’s throats in a full out war.” If I’m remembering correctly, Jamal had another war going on with another King too.
“We unified after my little sister got popped on Lombard street,” Holy shit. I hadn’t heard about that.
“I’m so sorry. When did Taneesha pass? I hadn’t heard about her death.”
“A few weeks back. Right around the time you and Dog were missing. Everyone was pointin’ the finger at him but I knew he wouldn’t touch a nineteen-year-old girl goin’ to college. I might not have made anything good of my life but not her. She was gonna get out of this rat-infested city and make somethin’ of herself.”
“Rat-infested city. Now you sound like someone else.” I roll my eyes.
“You been walkin’ the streets lately? People just don’t give a fuck and are turnin’ our city into a dump.”
“Sounds like you actually give a shit.”
“I do, and so do you. We have a lotta history, Gamble. Stop sellin’ drugs and make this easier on both of us. I don’t want them to hurt you, but you know I don’t control everyone.” I pull my gun from Marcus’ head and go back over to my bed, place it under the pillow and sit down on the edge.
“I don’t like this political shit, Marcus. Never have, not since I was a little girl. I’m gonna have to think about this.”
He scoffs from across the room, “There isn’t anything to think about. How is that not clear? You either stop sellin’ drugs, or you get popped like Taneesha did. What’s it gonna be?”
I shut my eyes as the pressures of this position drift over me. “You know, if we didn’t go way back I wouldn’t have even talked with you. You wouldn’t have even woken up; I would’ve put a piece of lead through your eyes.”
“Yeah, well maybe you should’ve!” I holler in complete frustration. I don’t need to hear his shit about how he’s giving me preferential treatment. I have far too much anger when it comes to him and his family. They told my father and I we were like an extension of their family, but when push came to shove they didn’t show up when we needed them. Marcus’ dad could’ve intervened and maybe even saved my father’s life, but he didn’t. Nor did he help pry me from Rancid’s clutches.
They just allowed it to happen. “Get the fuck out, Marcus.”
“I’m really not likin’ the tone you’re takin’ with me, girl.” Marcus walks over to the sliding glass door, pushes it to the right and closes it behind him. The lamp illuminates the balcony enough to where I can see he jumps up on the roof and heads to the right.
Didn’t realize he was pulling some spider-man shit. Fuck, if I didn’t need a drink before I sure as hell do now.
Chapter Eleven
Stand for what you believe, even if that means standing alone
~@TheRichQuotes
Hart
6 Days Ago . . .
At first I would’ve said I was in a small ass room. I’m taking back anything I said prior right now. I feel like Harry Potter shoved in a room under the stairs. They have me on a motherfuckin’ twin bed, crammed up against a wall with open shelving right next to it. Unlike all the other bedrooms I don’t have an ensuite bathroom and have to trek all the way downstairs just to take a leak.
After I relieve myself in the bathroom by the bar, I wash my hands and head out into the main part of the clubhouse. Out of every club I’ve ever been to, these guys tend to turn in pretty early. It’s one in the morning and there isn’t one soul up with me.
For some reason I haven’t been able to get a lick of sleep tonight, so I head behind the bar and grab a small glass then grab a bottle of Maker’s Mark from the top shelf. I see where they keep the ice, so I push the metal lid back and throw a few cubes in the cup before I pour myself a heavy serving.
Instead of taking a seat I lean back against the bar and look across the dimly lit space. Fuck, I can’t help but think how things have changed over the last couple months. I never thought in my wildest dreams I would’ve left Petros’ side and here I am, half-way across the United States, calling a woman Prez, in a club full of strangers.
Soft footsteps come from the direction of the stairs so I shift my eyes to the left, wanting to know who’s woken up. It’s Gamble. She’s in some skin-tight long sleeve shirt that shows me the perfect outline of her hardened nipples. I can’t remember the name of the pants chicks wear these days, but they hug their ass like a second skin. Hell, if I could pay the person who invented them I would.
“Can’t sleep?” I question as she gets closer to the bar, obviously startling her since she jumps up in the air.
She places her hand over her chest and breathes in and out heavily. “Jesus, next time give a girl some warning.”
“There’s a light on,” I point to the LED light on behind me.
“Yeah, that you’re standing in front of. I can’t even see it, jackass.”
I’m not sure why but when she calls me a jackass I break out into laughter. Maybe it’s because I haven’t had some good old-fashioned banter in longer than I care to admit. Gamble rolls her eyes and huffs. Meanwhile, I move out of the way so the light can better illuminate more of the clubhouse. “I’ve heard a lot about you, and not anything good.” She continues to say. I’m not sure what she’s getting at, but two can play at this game.
“Same goes for you, but I’m not dumb enough to believe everything I hear on the streets amongst drunken men.”
“How noble of you,” Gamble scoffs, eyeing the top shelf of the
bar.
“You want a drink?” I ask, ‘cause I’ll get her one if she wants it. I’m not that much of a dick.
“I’d love one, but my stomach is turning. I’ll settle for a seltzer water instead. It’s on tap here with the fountain drinks.” I scan my eyes until I find what I’m looking for directly next to the drafts. It’s one of those newer hose sort of things where you can select multiple different sodas. I grab another small glass like mine and click the one that says seltzer, even adding a couple cubes of ice.
“You sick or something?” I inquire. I’m one of the unlucky bastards who ends up catching anything that blows in my direction so if she’s sick I’ll be making myself scarce for the next few days and avoiding her while whatever is running through her system hits up the clubwhores and other brothers.
She chuckles, “I wish I was sick. I’m afraid the alternative is far worse.”
Her response immediately piques my interest and I can’t help but be a tad bit nosey. “You sound like whatever it is weighs heavily on your mind.”
“That it does, and you suddenly turned into a Gandolf speaking man who gives a shit. What’s up with that?” I’ll take it as a compliment that she just compared me to Gandolf. He was the most badass character in Lord of the Rings if you ask me.
“I’m only being observant. Your entire expression faltered when you said you wished you were sick. Makes me feel like it’s bothering you quite a bit.”
I hand Gamble her drink and she gives me a head nod before taking a sip. “I’m pregnant. That is why I’m bothered as you say, because I was just put into this role and finally am getting some grip on things when it seems like meteors are falling straight out of the sky and fucking up my progress.”
“A baby fucks up your progress?”
“That isn’t what I said,” Damn, if someone isn’t getting defensive so soon.
“Hate to break it to you, but it kind of is.”
“Are you always this frustrating?”
“Yep.”
“God, I might just send you back from where you came from,” She pauses for a second before she giggles, sounding lighthearted. “Actually, I can’t because Petros pretty much hates you.”
“He doesn’t hate me. It was all—”
“Just a big misunderstanding. Yeah, I know. That’s what you said earlier.”
We’re not gonna chit chat about my shit back with Petros. That’s a mile long and far too dense. “So, Dog the father?” Everyone knew Dog was tapping Rancid’s little toy. Who wouldn’t when she was right in front of your face everyday with no big bad boss to shake his finger at ya?
“No. This might be TMI, but I had my shark week a couple weeks before I was called down to New Orleans.”
“Fuck, so that means what exactly?”
“This kid is Rancid’s. I only found out earlier this evening so needless to say I’m still processing it. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“I don’t blame you. Not everyone has the pleasure of carrying around the Antichrist’s child.”
Gamble looks at me sternly but laughs again as she looks down to her stomach. “I almost argued with you, but I can’t. Rancid is . . . pure evil, and that’s putting it nicely.”
“Are you gonna tell him that you’re uh . . . pregnant?”
Gamble looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “No, and no one in this club will tell him. I won’t hesitate to gun down any motherfucker who puts me or my child in jeopardy.”
For some reason my flat expression turns into a smirk, “You said you didn’t know what you’re going to do, but you just put me in my place. I think you know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna be a momma bear to this kid.”
Gamble stares at me blankly for a few moments before she puts her glass down and walks off, heading back up to her room. Well, I guess I’d better finish off this bourbon and get my ass back to my shoebox sized room.
Chapter Twelve
I’m a popular loner. They all know me, but they don’t really know me.
~Unknown
Gamble
4 Days Ago . . .
When I was a teenager, I had dreams about the day I’d become a mother and be able to give the same love and affection my mother gave me to my own child. I thought I’d go off to college and major in something like communications or business management. That I might even meet my future baby daddy or husband at a frat party or in class. We’d date throughout college until he’d propose and we’d both have our dream jobs, at which point we’d buy a house and settle into our home. You see, I had the perfect idea of what my life would’ve looked like at such a young age.
The sad reality is life never works out the way you expect it to, even if you try to prepare yourself. There are too many bigger things at play.
I place my hand on my stomach and feel the tense muscle that’s guarding my unborn child. A child I never wanted. A child I hadn’t prepared for. A child that should’ve been brought into this world out of love . . . not through a sadistic motherfucker who only wants to bring me harm and humiliation. That’s what Rancid gets off on, continuously tearing down the last remaining member of the Knights of Retribution MC. It took me years to realize why he does what he does. The answer is simpler than I ever thought. I’m a trophy. A living, breathing trophy for him to torment whenever the mood strikes. An example for all the opposing clubs of what will happen to their wives, daughters or sisters.
When I think about it, he’s the reason for so many deaths. In the last ten years Rancid has overturned three opposing clubs. One of the Prez’s families was rumored to get out of the United States and flee to the United Kingdom. However, the other two weren’t as lucky. One of the Prez’s wives had slit her wrists before Rancid got to her and the other had shot herself in the head.
You see, everyone knows what Rancid does to his prisoners, especially if they’re women. I can’t blame them for taking the actions they had. If I knew then what I do now, I can fully say I would’ve made the same choice.
Sucking in a deep breath I close my eyes as my reality further settles in. I’ve known for a couple of days now and while it’s still hard to believe I have a living, breathing being inside me . . . it is my reality.
What Hart said to me the other night sunk into my head a bit. I told him I didn’t know what I was going to do, but my responses showed us both I knew exactly what I was doing. I’d protect this child if it’s the last thing I do, and I will. I’ve given it a lot of thought and I can’t punish this baby for the way it was created. At the end of the day this baby is part Rancid, but it’s part me too. And as long as I live, I won’t let him get close to it. I’ll make sure my baby grows up knowing love, compassion and kindness. It won’t be a bit like its father because I’ll make sure of it.
I get up off my bed, tucking in the sheets so tightly that it looks like I live in a five-star hotel and head into the beautiful ensuite bathroom Dog had renovated not too long ago. I turn on the water and allow the water to heat up, watching it fall from the rainfall shower head. It drips in a beautiful, delicate way making anyone feel like they’re in the Amazon rainforest.
Honestly, it gives me a sense of serenity and peace when I can’t find it in the chaos of my daily life.
I hop in the shower and take my time relaxing, preparing for the long day that I’m sure is going to come. All I’ve thought about is Marcus and what he said to me the other day, and now it’s time I come clean with the brothers. They need to know what he said, and more importantly, we need to make a unified decision as a club with what to do about the heroin.
Thankfully, Hatchet sent through the money and we made an offer on the place next door as soon as it came in. We heard from the bank that owns the property and it’s looking good, but they assured us we’d receive a call sometime today to let us know if we’ve gotten the official okay to move forward with the purchase. In the meantime, King has been a big help with finding construction workers to potentially work with us. The trickiest part has
been finding someone who’s available as soon as we need them. He found a few decent guys who had good pricing, but they wanted to start in a month. I couldn’t authorize that, not with how we’re having women come in.
They were supposed to be here yesterday but something happened with their transport and they won’t be arriving until tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ve gone out and purchased cots to put in the clubwhores rooms. It’ll be packed tight but we’ll make it work. Now, all I have to do is tell the girls how things will be for the next few weeks. King did tell me his buddy could start as soon as we got the keys to next door and file for the permits at that point as well.
Once I’m finished with my shower, I quickly blow dry my hair and change into a pair of jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt with our logo on it. I head downstairs and find almost every brother is awake. This isn’t typical at seven in the morning. Most of the brothers aren’t awake until at least ten in the morning.
“Brothers, we need to meet downstairs for church. I have some things I need to tell you. Get your food, or your coffee and meet me in ten minutes.” I state it clear as day when I’m in the middle of the club, ensuring everyone can hear me.
I thought I’d just tell them about Marcus, but there’s one other thing I should tell them.
Chapter Thirteen
“It took me quite a long time to develop a voice, and now that I have it, I am not going to be silent.”
~Madeline Albright
Gamble
4 Days Ago . . .
All of the brothers pour into church with less than a minute to spare. “You seem a little agitated, everything good?” Mugshot asks as he takes his seat.
Bet On Me: Royal Bastards MC: Baltimore #1 Page 6