N9ne: The Tale of Kevin Clearwater (King, #9)(82)

The door slams. I spin around to face Preppy, but he’s not there. “Sorry about this brother,” he says from behind me.

“What the fuck?”

There’s a bag placed over my head, and I’m shoved onto the leather couch. I’m reaching for the chains on my wrists when I realize that no one has attacked me or bound my hands. The light clicks on, and I can see figures through the bag. I reach up and slowly pull it from my head.

“Man, you didn’t even piss yourself!” Preppy whines, stomping his foot and snagging the sac from my lap. He folds it in his hands and places it back into a drawer as if it were a family heirloom.

“I told you not to fucking bag ‘em,” Bear growls. “We were in the apartment for two fucking seconds and come back to you lookin’ like you’re recruiting the newest member of your satanic fuckin’ cult,” Bear says, slapping Preppy in the chest. “We agreed no bags on the head.”

“Ouch, Care Bear. I don’t know what hurts worse. Your words, or the fact that you don’t think I’m going to use what you just said as innuendo against you. Bags on the head? Really? You can do better than that.”

Bear pulls over a chair and turns it around so it’s backwards. He straddles it and rolls his eyes. “Fuck me.”

“No thanks,” Preppy replies, laying down on the tattoo chair and crossing his arms over his chest. He looks at the ceiling. “I’ve got a wife for that.”

“Oh, trust me. I know,” Bear says. “Because I’ve fucked yo—”

“Are you really going there right now?” Preppy says, shooting up to a sitting position. “We agreed you would never go there.”

“And you agreed you wouldn’t bag your brother like a hostage in one of those cheesy action movies!”

King walks over to his tattoo chair and takes a seat. He rubs his face like he’s annoyed with the scene playing out in front of him, but in truth, I see the smile he’s trying to hide.

“Kids,” he muttered. “Can’t take ‘em anywhere.” He looks to me. “Not my kids. My kids are great.” He lights a joint and inhales. He jerks his chin over to Bear and Preppy, who are griping at each other like an old married couple, then runs his hands over his short hair. “It’s them two I gotta fuckin’ worry about.”

“Why, exactly, am I here?” I ask.

Preppy and Bear stop the bickering and look to me. A slow smile spreads across Preppy’s face.

Bear raises his eyebrows. “Because we’re having a goddamn meetin’ that’s why.” He says, like it should be obvious to me.

I lean forward and take the joint from King, taking a long drag and keeping it held in for as long as I can before exhaling because there’s no way I’m going to be able to get through the next few minutes without being high, especially if Preppy doesn’t get to the fuckin’ point.

I stand to pass the joint to Bear. “Okay, but like I asked before—” I sit back down. “Why am I here?”

King stands and moves to the wall where he removes one of Ray’s framed drawings, revealing a safe. He turns it left and right a few times before it pops open.

Preppy rubs his hands together eagerly.

Bear’s face is expressionless, except for a knowing glint in his eyes.

King retrieves something and shuts the safe. He sits back down and holds up a key, the end in the same symbol as the neon logo hanging above his head. He tosses the key to me and sits back. “What’s this for?” I inspect the key and quickly notice that although it’s the same logo as the sign, it’s also a little different.

This one has the number nine in the center of the bow tie.

I look up and meet three pairs of approving eyes.

“Those,” King says, “are the keys to the motherfuckin’ kingdom.”

“Welcome aboard, kid,” Bear chimes in.

“My baby boy. All fuckin’ grown up,” Preppy says in a high-pitched voice, fanning his fake tears.

King leans forward. His elbows on his knees. “That key unlocks this room, all three of our houses, the arsenal on the island, several safe houses, and a few stashes of shit here and there around town.”

“And for some reason, it also opens the vending machine at the bus stop,” Preppy says with a shrug. “Free Fritos for fucking dayyyysss.”

“You showed us that you’re willing to take a bullet for us. To die for us,” Bear says.

King finishes, “This is us showing you that we’re willing to do the same. We need some younger blood in Logan’s Beach. Someone willing to take charge when we can’t. Someone else to watch our backs. We all got our own shit going on, but this here in this room? This shit comes first.”

Bear nods in agreement. “I’ve got The Lawless, my MC, my brotherhood.” He looks around the room. “But these two are my actual brothers. And now, so are you.”

The key feels heavy with the trust it comes with. “I won’t let you down.”

Preppy pulls out a long sharp knife. There’s a glint in his eye as he holds it up in the air. “Now, it’s time for the blood oath.”

A few moments of silence pass before all three of them start laughing.

“I’m just kidding. The blood oath was a no-go the first time I brought it up.”