Through A Glass, Darkly (The Assassins of Youth MC #1)(30)
“Do you need help?” Gideon whispered as we walked ever so slowly out of the office.
“Not yet.”
Parley patted Gideon down. The men shook hands as I turned on my laptop. There was a special tall stool where I would sit and enter each new delivery, which shelf and aisle it would be stored on. We already had enough military grade weapons to arm a banana republic, but Allred’s paranoia would require that we keep stockpiling more. Gideon used the dolly to cart out box after wooden box of arms. He looked dashing and sinewy even doing such a mundane thing. My face was hot, and I kept glancing at Allred to see what he knew. Who had snitched that my truck was at the High Dive? I had made sure to park a few doors down from the bar, in front of the bakery, a place I could feasibly be seen going into.
Since Allred wasn’t familiar with some of the makes and models, Gideon would tell me directly what they were. Each glance of his was full of concern and caring. At least, that’s what I wanted to imagine after hearing Allred’s threats toward Vonda. The wheels in my brain were turning at a furious pace. How can I get out of here? Can I hide in Gideon’s truck? That’s absurd. I can’t leave Vonda to suffer a fate worse than sealing to Orson Ream. When I go, I need to take her.
“Six Izhmash SV-98s,” said Gideon.
When I furrowed my brow, he had to come over and educate me further. Parley and Allred were absorbed in the firing mechanism of an AK-12, aiming it at a row of American-made weapons as though playing a video game.
Gideon said, “I-Z-H-M-A-S-H, Sierra Victor ninety-eight. Listen, what the f*ck was that whack-a-mole doing to you in there?”
“It’s all right. I’m protecting my daughter.”
“Mahalia. What’s being done to you is going to be done to your daughter if you don’t take action.”
“But what action can I take? I’m helpless.”
Gideon looked frustrated too, but he said, “No one’s ever truly helpless,” before returning to the truck.
It was then that I heard the rumble of a bike’s pipes approaching. There were only a couple of motorcycles in Cornucopia, it not really being a Cornucopia type of conveyance. And those two were rice rockets, not Harleys, as I could tell this one was.
Gideon had said something about leaving his associates, plural, at the front gates. I hoped to hell he hadn’t dragged that Tim Breakiron guy into this deal with him. Maybe whoever had brought the Larry’s Produce truck to Mesquite had gotten in the gates. No one else seemed to hear the bike, though, until it was fairly close. I could think of no reason why an associate would come to the warehouse at this late juncture in the exchange.
The next moment I caught Gideon’s eye, I pointed outside and uttered “What’s that?” soundlessly.
Gideon caught my meaning and left the dolly at the base of the ramp to go around the side of the truck. The bike’s engine was cut, and whoever it was hit the ground yelling. It only took a few words to realize it was that Tim Breakiron idiot because he was yelling,
“This should’ve been my f*ckin’ deal, man! You cut in like you owned the f*cking place and totally took over, and now Papa Ewey is cutting me out of every aspect of this Cornucopia deal like I didn’t even f*ckin’ exist!”
“Breakiron! This isn’t the f*cking time or place. Why don’t we discuss this back—”
Tim drew a pistol from inside of his cut and pointed it at Gideon. “No! I’m sick of being shoved in the background like some little f*cking kid! When you came along everything fell to shit! Things were going fine until I was sent on this stupid f*cking run with you.”
Gideon held up his hands as though surrendering. He spoke calmly, as though soothing a crazed bomber. I saw that Parley Pipkin had hidden behind the box truck, and Allred seemed to be contemplating which way to go. Either way, it was a definite misfortune that ammo for most of the weapons was down in Aisle 3B. Allred held an unloaded sniper rifle, but the best he could do would be hit Breakiron over the head with it.
Louder than was necessary, Gideon shouted, “Tim. You were sent here fair and square. We both had major f*ckups that affected our membership standing. I was making time with Papa Ewey’s old lady, and you were raping Bent Zealots guys.”
Gideon had been slowly moving toward the truck, away from me. Drawing Breakiron’s attention away, I gathered. As for me, I was rooted to the spot. Maybe I reasoned that moving would attract Breakiron’s attention.
Breakiron waved his handgun now. He bawled, “Oh yeah? Well, you’re ten times worse than me, Fortunati! You take all the f*cking gun business for yourself. Then you push up on this guy’s—”
Even louder, Gideon roared, “I’d watch what I was saying if I was you.”
“This guy’s what?” Boldly, Allred finally made the decision to step into the open. Maybe he was hoping Breakiron would think his weapon was loaded. Maybe he just couldn’t resist the chance for the limelight. “You’re Gideon’s associate, are you not? My deal had nothing to do with your character, sir. I had no clue about this male-raping until just now. You needn’t have forced Gideon to inform us about that by breaking into my compound and accosting us.”
“I’m not here to talk to you!” shrieked Breakiron, his gun still trained on Gideon. “I want to know why I keep getting cut out of everything. Just the gang rape can’t be the reason you were made Prez of this new chapter and not me!”