Reign (Sin City Outlaws #1)(5)

“Let me guess, he didn’t answer?” Felix asks, his voice thick with smoke. I’ve tried to call his ass since Dad got locked up, and he’s not answered once.

“Doesn’t matter. This is club business, not Lip’s business. I’ll take care of this.”

“What are you going to do?”

Inhaling a breath, I stand. “I’m going to f*cking show this club what we do to rats.”

***

Walking into Dad’s old office, I sit behind his desk. A desk that will be mine. I don’t know how I’m going to get to my father when he’s in prison. My eyes sweep across his desk, landing on payouts. People we have in our pocket. People and organizations we’ve got by the balls to do our dirty work. Uncle Frank has some, but the MC has more.

“How the hell am I going to get to him?” I mutter, sliding my hands back and forth through my hair. My father is smart; he’ll be protected.

“Felix!” I holler.

He straggles into the office, his eyes bloodshot as hell.

“You still in contact with that one guy, the one that has every drug, plant, and prescription you can think of?”

Felix turns his head slightly, eyeing me like I’ve lost my mind.

“I try to stay away from that guy, he’s weird. Why? What are you looking for?”

“My dad is probably going to be protected in prison, so I’m not going to be able to hire someone to take him out. He’ll expect that.”

“Yeah, he will.”

“I was thinking about getting something that will take him out without him expecting it.” I sit up in my chair, and my eyes perk when it hits me. “Ricin.”

“Dude.” Felix’s face goes serious. “That’s a pretty lethal drug. I don’t know if he’ll have that shit. But I gotta give you credit for thinking like a f*cking psychopath. I’ll text him and find out, though.”

I smirk. “I’ll lace the butt of a cigarette with it, and I’ll get a dirty cop to give him a pack of smokes.” I nod along with my words. The whole plan is coming into play easily. “It’ll be my mark on Vegas. My first kill as president.” Adrenaline spikes my heart into a racing beat as I think about it.

“He has it, for a price,” Felix informs, taking me from my mental planning.

Taking my gaze from my hands, I glance at him.

“Name it.”

***

Felix picked the Ricin up for me an hour ago, already rolled into a cigarette. I placed it into a fresh pack of smokes, and am now waiting for one of our payouts to meet me. You can see the sun peek over the horizon, threatening us of its heat and glory to follow.

Fucking rat, I still can’t believe this shit.

A sheriff’s car pulls up, dust from the desert kicking up in a cloud of smoke behind it.

“Zeek,” the man greets, getting out of the car. He pulls on his shirt and narrows his eyes at me. “I’m surprised to see you. I usually only deal with your father.”

“Yeah, well, my father is locked up,” I respond bitterly.

“Now you’re in charge?” He says it on a long breath, as if he’s tired of us.

Lifting my head with confidence, I give him a beaming, toothy smile.

“You’ll never get rid of us. Kind of like you pigs. One dies, another fills your place.”

His face sours, his hands tugging on the waist of his pants as he looks off into the desert.

“What can I do for you, Zeek?”

“I want in to see my father.”

“I can’t do that. They have his ass separated from everyone else awaiting trial.” He shakes his head sternly.

“Can you give him something for me?” I slide my hand in my pocket, my fingers grazing the pack of Marlboro Lights.

“Depends what it is…” He eyes me warily.

Pulling the pack out, I stare at it. This is it. By giving this pack to this dip shit, my father will be dead and I will be president.

The fresh smell of tobacco wafts up to me, reminding me of my father. My rat of a father. I snarl, the sting of him betraying not only the club, but me, is painful. I toss the pack at the sheriff and lift my shoulders.

“Cigarettes? You want me to give these to him?” He palms them, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Yup.” I wait for the questions to start on why I asked him to come all the way out here to take a pack of smokes.

He nods and sticks the pack into his pocket. “I can do that.”

I sigh, relieved I don’t have to come up with some lie about why he needs to deliver them. “I want my father to call me a couple hours after you deliver.”

“I can’t do—”

“You can, and you will. Get him a phone, and have him call me. You can’t get me in to see him, so I want a f*cking phone call.”

He sighs heavily. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good.” Swinging my leg over my bike, I start it and leave.

***

Riding back to my house, a million things go through my head. I wish I could single one out to concentrate on it, but it’s pointless.

Pulling up to my shitty house, I head inside to find the front door open, but the screen door shut. I snap out of my daze and immediately focus. The front door being open is unusual, since Rachel is a paranoid chick. She always has everything bolted like Fort Knox.