by Kara Parker
“That’s what I thought,” Joseph says, pulling the gun down. “Let me explain what is going to happen. We’re taking over the Matos Cartel, and we will defend ourselves. You have seen what we can do. But we have no desire to go to war with anyone. So… you leave us alone and we will leave you alone. We’re businessmen, nothing more. Do I make myself clear?”
All the men and their women nod.
“Very good. Now, I am going to let you all leave. The Nine Devils are going to clean up his cesspool and operate it like a business. The whoring and abuse are going to stop. The killings are going to stop. If you can live by those rules, you have nothing to fear from us. We are not going to try to take your customers from you. We intend to earn them away with a better supply and fair dealing and protection from the rest of the jackals. You can try to hold them, but hitting us to prevent them from joining us… would not be in your best interest. Am I clear on this?”
Once again all the men and women nod.
“Danny, escort them out and let them go.”
“Just like that? You’re letting us go?” a man asks.
“That’s right. I have no quarrel with you.”
The men look at each other. “Matos was fucking crazy. He was bad for business. I’m glad he is out of the way,” another man says. Not all men appear to agree, but a few nod their heads.
“Danny, get them out of here. And return their weapons to them.”
As Danny escorts the men out Joseph turns his attention to the remainder. “Now, for you. You have three options. You can go, you can stay, or you can die. Those wishing to leave, may leave now. This is your only chance to get out and live. If you come back, if you try to harm the Nines, either directly by arms or by sowing dissension, you will be dealt with most severely. If you choose to stay, and operate within our rules, you will not be harmed. Once we know we can trust you, you may once again advance to positions of influence. But… corruption will not be tolerated. Failure to follow these rules will result in swift and severe punishment.”
Joseph waits while his words sink in. “If you wish to leave now, step over here,” he says, pointing to where the group just released gathered. Surprisingly few gather.
“Do you understand the chance I am giving you? I am giving you a chance to start your life over again. But you are not to return to this place… ever. Do you understand this?”
A couple of people whisper to others in Spanish. Joseph waits until everyone is nodding. “You are free to go.” The group doesn’t exactly run, but they leave with great haste.
Joseph looks over the twenty or so people that are left. “This you last chance. If you agree to stay you agree to abide by our rules. If you want to leave, do so now.” He waits, but nobody moves. “Carlos, come here.”
Rose has been watching silently. She had to look away when Joseph shot the man for trying to sneak out, but she held her tongue, not wanting to interfere. She swallows hard as a pale Carlos steps out and meets Joseph.
“Carlos, this is Steven Ranson. He is in charge and his word is God. Is that clear?” When Carlos nods he continues. “Can I trust you to play by his rules. Can I trust you to not try to stab him in the back?”
“Yes, Mr. Warner.”
Joseph smiles. “Okay. Listen carefully. You seem like an honorable guy. On the trip back from Eagle Valley, you treated us with reasonable respect and you kept Rose safe from… unpleasantness. If I ask you who we can’t trust to keep their word, will you point them out? Before you answer, I want you to think about this. If you point them out, I won’t kill them. I will only expel them, for you could be mistaken and they may have kept their word. But if you don’t point them out and they turn on us, I will have to… doubt your loyalty. So think carefully.”
Carlos thinks a moment, then quickly names four men, one of them being Jesús.
“If Carlos called you name, step out and leave.”
“You don’t scare me, you fucking American!” Jesús says as he swaggers out of the group. “I’ll be back! I’ll come back with a fucking army and fuck your bitch…”
Joseph backhands him with the hand holding the gun, the heft of the weapon adding to the power of the punch. Jesús goes down hard, blood pouring from his mouth as he spits out a tooth. Joseph grabs him by the hair and puts the weapon to his temple. “You’re not very fucking smart, are you? Do you know how close to death you are? Should I just kill you now to save Steven the trouble of doing it later?” he rages.
Jesús’s eyes go wide in fear but he says nothing.
“Well, tough guy! You have anything else to say?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought. The three of you, get out... and take this stupid fucker with you,” Joseph snarls, throwing Jesús’s head down. The moment they are out of the door, Joseph’s rage disappears as quickly as it appeared. “Think he got the message?” he asks Steven calmly.
“I hate it when you do that. I never know if you are really pissed and about to blow someone's brains out or are just faking it,” Steven replies with a chuckle.
Joseph puts his hand on Steven’s shoulder. “If I’m really pissed, you don’t get a second chance,” he says with a meaningful look at Amalia and Hector’s body. “Who’s here?”
“Everyone you see in the room, plus the entire sniper team.”
“Okay. Look, I’m exhausted. Put together a list of who and what you need to put this operation on its feet. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. And talk to Carlos. I think we should give him a chance to earn our trust.”
“Get some rest, Joseph. Everything is under control.”
“Thanks Steven. But do one more thing for me.”
“Sure. What’s that?”
“Get these fucking paintings off the walls and burn them.”
“That was going to be my first order.”
Joseph simply nods in thanks, then holds his hand out to Rose. “Are you ready?”
Rose steps to him and takes his hand, saying nothing, pulling it to her lips where she kisses his fingers.
They spend a couple of minutes looking for a room to sleep in. Amalia’s is out because neither wants to be reminded of what happened in there. They find Hector’s room as well, but the paintings of fornicating succubuses and incubuses cause them to abandon that room as well. The third room is a mate to Amalia’s, though not so richly appointed, with a regular king size bed in it and, most importantly, only paintings of Mexican life.
“Are we okay?” Joseph asks as they settle, no bed having ever felt so luxurious.
“I think so. How about you?”
“I’m okay. I’m more worried about you. You had to endure a lot. More than I did.”
“What do you mean?”
“The way Amalia was goading you. And Matos…” he says, his voice dwindling away, unable to even think about what could have happened.
“Amalia was a complete bitch… but in the end, she paid for it. Matos I can understand, but why did you shoot Amalia?”
“Because she was an heir. We had to make a clean break.”
“Is that the only reason?” Joseph’s refusal to answer is answer enough. Frontier justice, served cold. “Thank you Joseph,” she finally says when it becomes clear he won’t answer her question.
“For what?”
“For being there for me.”
Joseph chuckles. “Athena… I’m not sure you needed me. You were doing pretty well on your own.”
“I had decided he wasn’t going to touch me… that I would die first. I was just making sure it would happen.”
“If Steven hadn’t shown up when he did, you might have gotten your wish.”
“I know.”
“I love you Rose,” he says, snuggling in with a sigh.
She kisses him gently on the lips before turning on her side, smiling as he spoons her, tucking in tight to her back. “I love you too, Joseph.”
Nothing more is said as first Joseph, then Rose, slides peaceably into darkness.
; CHAPTER FIFTY
“Twelve men… that’s all you need?” Joseph asks dubiously.
“I have sixteen more from Matos.”
“I don’t know that you can trust them. Not yet.”
“Don’t worry… I don’t. But Carlos is a stand-up guy. I talked to him last night. He knows everything that goes on around here. Matos was nominally in charge, and his son next, but Carlos actually ran the operation. I’ll keep an eye on him, but I have the feeling he didn’t care for Matos, or his son. He didn’t like all the decadence, abuse, and violence. He all but said he’s glad you killed Matos.”
“Okay. It’s your call.”
“I have a list of who I want.”
Joseph reads the list. “May I make a suggestion?”
“Sure.”
“Can you change Touch out for Reaper or one of the other snipers? You will still have four… but I would like to take Touch home with me.”
“I suppose. I was going to use him to train some additional sharp shooters… but…”
“Maybe I can send him back to you. Or even better, have him train them at home then send them down to you. This will also give one of the other’s a chance to advance and… well… Touch and Melina are becoming close. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”
Steven stares at Joseph a moment before chuckling. “You’re getting soft. But I understand. I didn’t know. Can I have Athena?” he teases.
“No!” Joseph replies, drawing the word out.
Steven chuckles again. “Okay. Reaper is probably the next best guy. The others look up to him.”
“Thanks, Steven. There has been too much pain and death already. I would like to see a little happiness for a change.”
“You want to talk about what happened here?”
Joseph thinks about it a moment, then fills Steven in. He needs to know the culture he is up against… what he is trying to change, so he tells him everything, leaving nothing out. “... then you arrived. And, well, you know it from there.”
“Holy shit,” Steven breathes. “We had no idea. We arrived only a few hours after you. We saw them take out of that shed and into the house yesterday. We have been out in the desert, watching the compound, working out our assault plan. Two nights ago we tried to signal Rose, in her room, while she was watching out the window. We knew it was a long-shot that she would see our light, but we tried to let her know we were out there. But if we had known… We were almost too late.”
“But you weren’t. That’s the important thing. You had no way of knowing what was going on. Don’t blame yourself.”
“Right. Thanks for telling me this. It fills in some of the blanks. Like the paintings. And the nude women. I will lay the law down about this to the men that shit like that isn’t going to be tolerated anymore.”
Later that afternoon, Joseph announces their plans, and how they have agreed to divide their forces. They make one additional change in personnel to accommodate a request, leaving Steven with an extra sniper and a promise from Touch to check in from time to time to train additional shooters as required.
As they prepare for the long drive back to Eagle Valley, Joseph pulls Carlos aside. “Carlos… I have spoken to Steven. He feels as I do. Show us that we can depend on you, that you can live and operate as an honorable man, and you can go far in our organization.”
“You can depend on me, Mr. Warner.” Carlos looks about then holds Joseph’s gaze. “Not to speak ill of the dead… but Señor Matos, Javier, and Amalia got what they deserved. I shall not mourn their passing.”
Joseph smiles. “As you work to earn our trust, we will work to earn your respect.”
Carlos smiles. “By not killing everyone, and allowing those that wish to leave to do so, shows me that you and your… err… club, are worthy of my respect. Perhaps this can be a mutually beneficial relationship one day.”
Joseph offers his hand, which Carlos takes. “I hope so Carlos.”
“As do I, Mr. Warner.”
***
“Holy shit, I’m tired,” Joseph groans as he pulls the truck into the clubhouse. All the remaining Nines, the few that were left behind, are there to greet them. The bullet-riddled cars are gone, along with all the bodies. He will have to find out what was done with them… cars and bodies both… and who had taken care of it. All his lieutenants were down in Mexico. The Nines don’t give out medals and awards, but somebody is due a hell of an attaboy.
They had come back with only three of the six trucks the Nines own, leaving three for Steven to use. It is going to be ruinously expensive to get the Southern Division, as they have taken to calling it, up and running. The sale of some of Matos’ assets, such as the estate and his collection of exotic cars, will help. Until then, they are going to have to be frugal and manage their assets carefully. But at least the war is behind them and they now control their supply chain, end to end.
As the eight members of the Nines exit their vehicles, those waiting for them begin to clap, Melina rushing forward to hug Rose fiercely. “I thought I would never see you again.”
“So did I.”
“Was it bad?”
“Pretty bad. I will tell you sometime.”
“When you’re ready,” she says before turning to Joseph and hugging him as well.
As greeting are exchanged, Rose watches Melina shyly walk up to Touch. Rose nudges Joseph just as Touch takes her into his arms. They don’t kiss, but Melina has a small smile on her face as she places her head against his shoulder, her eyes closed… perhaps thinking of one day. Rose smiles and she can feel her eyes tear up in happiness for Melina.
“I’m glad for them,” Joseph says softly, pulling her a little more snugly to him.
“Yeah. Me too. I hope it works out.”
“So do I. But what about us? When are you leaving for Vegas?”
“I was thinking about that on the drive back. I need to talk to Melina… see if she still wants to sell the Goose.”
“Why?”
“I’m in the buying mood.”
“And if she doesn’t want to sell?” Joseph asks with a smile.
“I think she will. But if not… last time I checked she was still short a manager.”
THE END
Bonus Book Drifter
CHAPTER ONE
I couldn’t help but look up and watch the seconds tick by on the fifties clock above the doorway. It was three minutes past five. Correction. Three minutes and thirty-three… thirty-four… thirty-five… I was driving myself crazy. I’d wiped the counters twice, filled the chip and peanut bowls until they spilled onto the bar, cleaned the restroom from top to bottom, rechecked to make sure all the liquor was filled and that we had enough of everything. I’d become obsessed with time, and I couldn’t help looking at that fucking clock again. Only ten seconds had passed.
“Chels?” Lisa asked beside me. Her thin, brown eyebrows were pulled down towards her forest green eyes in worry.
I smiled at the waitress reassuringly, as I wiped the counter again. “Hey,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, like my hands weren’t sweating and my pulse wasn’t racing, “Why don’t you go home early tonight? You could watch a movie with Jimmy. He doesn’t have baseball practice, right?”
I was hoping to distract the both of us with talk of her eleven-year-old-son. Kids had a way of making my problems disappear. My baby girl used to do that. I would just let go of anything her daddy did to me and not even feel the bruises on my skin when she was in my arms. Holding Janie had always calmed me and always let me forget about the cuckoo-clock above the fireplace that told me when her daddy was going to be home. The minute she died was the minute that I started hearing that clock. It was louder than any train whistle, any car horn, or any woman’s broken screams.
My eyes strayed to the clock again. Three minutes and two… three… four seconds had passed. Lisa was still talking, but I hadn’t been paying attention. I wiped down the glossy wood counter again, and our regular Jack and Coke drin
ker, Charles, eyed me like I was demented.
I forced myself to throw the cloth in the sink under the bar and turn to Lisa with the soothing, practiced smile that I had perfected. It was one that said, Everything is alright. I just fell down the stairs. I just hit my head on the wall. My husband’s not abusing me. Everything is alright.
“Why don’t you head on home, honey,” I said, letting my southern drawl thicken until I could coat it over every word. I didn’t need to use the accent and had actually lost it since I’d come to Mountain Grove, Illinois, but I let it flow out nonetheless.