“Good,” Law says, being one of the few who looked at me longer than most for not exiting. “Now shut it. Flint, get me a line out.”
“Already on it. Crispy is on line one,” he says with a nod toward the speakerphone they brought in just for this.
Phones are usually kept out of Church for a reason, to avoid any recordings. Flint always has the cameras running outside to keep eyes on everything while we’re locked away, and he puts the jammers in place to prevent listening devices from afar. No doubt the line is already secure, and both he and Gator are pinging it off cell towers to prevent a trace. Only way for us to talk freely with another club president about secure shit unless we meet in person.
“Crispy, you got Law, Bulldog, and Casper,” Flint says after pushing the button to take our side off mute.
I fold my arms, hoping to curb myself from reacting to anything by hitting something. It’s a common issue with most Hounds, hence why almost everyone is in the same position as me as we sit, pretending not to be here and acting like only Casper, Law, Flint, and Bulldog are on the line.
“Peachy” is rasped back to us, and I hold back a grunt. Crispy is one sarcastic son of a bitch who I get along wellwith. Haven’t seen him in about two years, since our last all-chapter meetup, but it seems that times have been good for him. Moved from VP to president of his chapter in the last six months, from what I’ve heard, when the other president stepped down to spend time with the grandkids. You wouldn’t know it, but Hounds make great granddads. We spoil the shit out of kids of all ages, but especially the ones linked to our own offspring. Don’t know a single Hound who doesn’t go apeshit for grandkids. Just means our legacy is growing and not dying out like so many other clubs.
“You’re the one who called for this. Tell me why,” Law says smoothly. As the mother chapter’s president, he outranks everyone, easily taking charge.
“Got a person of interest who wanted to make your acquaintance.” His rasp is soft, but his words are strong, causing the brothers to stiffen. I haven’t been in the room for many calls like this. As I said before, my humor usually has me sitting on the outside. But I can’t think of a time when we brought someone on the phone who wasn’t club related. That usually goes through another connection, the in-person kind with a blockade of brothers at the president’s back, all strapped and ready to go at a moment’s notice.
“Who?” Casper asks, squinting at the phone so hard, you would think he could see through it to the other side of the line.
“Vinny Leone.”
Law looks at me, and I bite the inside of my cheek before I give him a nod. He was giving me a second to walk if I needed, but I ain’t going anywhere. I’ve made my opinion about Vinny plenty clear in the past few days. I don’t have siblings, but I have brothers, club brothers. I can’twrap my mind around leaving one out to dry like he did his own blood. It pisses me off to the point that I see red and usually end up hitting someone or something if the topic is brought up. Got a few new dents in the walls around here lately because of me.
“Go ahead,” Law says, and we hear Crispy pass the phone over.
“Where is she?” The smooth voice does nothing to hide the hard notes in those three little words.
“Where’s who?” Bulldog asks flippantly.
“You know goddamn well who I’m talking about. Where’s Milly?”
“What makes you think we have her?” Law asks.
The guy laughs, but it’s more menacing than mirthful. “Because I’m not a fucking idiot. You got your boys out asking questions in my territory about Ivan Volkov.”
“So?” Casper throws in.
To his credit, Vinny isn’t swayed by the change in who’s talking. Some get all pissy about only wanting to talk to the boss, but we don’t identify Law if we don’t have to. We protect our president at all costs. Even if this guy demands to only talk to the man in charge, Law still won’t speak up and identify himself. It took him a while to accept it, but Bulldog and Casper put it to a vote, and the club agreed. Law only shows his hand when needed. And over the phone ain’t needed.
“Volkov is a small fish here. You want a piece of his large pie, you go someplace else. If you want to make a play on me and mine, I know you’re smart enough to find another big fish to play nice with. But you aren’t making a play, because wehave no issues. Well, we didn’t till now. Ivan is a fucking cunt, but he has a flaw, and that’s ego. An ego he tosses out, and little birds flock to it. One birdie being a close friend to my sister.”
“A birdie who’s dead,” Law says with a hard note to it.
A moment passes before Vinny speaks again. “Regrettable. She was a silly bird, but no one deserves to get their wings clipped.”
“Agreed But how does a dead bird make you think we have your sister?”
“Milly also has a flaw, and that’s loyalty.”
“A flaw that most in our business see as a gift in the right person.” Law continues to lead the charge.
“True, but not when you’re looking at the bigger picture. Loyalty gets you close, but it can also get you killed. While we in the business, as you call it, chose this life, she was burdened with it at birth.” He takes a moment, and I feel myself leaning toward the phone. “Just… just tell me she’s alive.” There’s a strained note in his voice that has me thinking the asshole might actually care about her after all.
Bulldog takes over. “She is, but not if Ivan has his way.”
Vinny growls on the other end of the phone. “He always was a vindictive son of a bitch.”
Casper chuckles. “Probably doesn’t help that she got two shots off at him the last time she saw him. One in the leg and the other in the stomach.”
The guy laughs, and I smirk as well. “Ha, that’s why he limps? Little Milly did that? Damn, the boys will be proud.”
