Out a Order by Evie Rhodes Page B

Michael.
    â€œSo what if I knew a tidbit or two? What would be in it for me?”
    â€œCold hard cash good enough?”
    â€œDepends on how much.”
    â€œTwo G’s.”
    Michael ran his tongue around the rim of the glass, savoring the taste of the liquor. “All right.”
    â€œStart talking.”
    The club was starting to come to life around them, and so did Michael Claybay by way of a lethal tongue. “Word is, Rico’s boy Temaine flipped to the other side. He’s tired of being an underling to Rico. He’s hooking up with Ballistic undercover. More profits, less fear, because Ballistic’s one nasty mother. He’s Rico’s most dangerous rival. The man put the D in danger. Trust me on this. Anyway, he wants it all. The turf and the profits.”
    Michael pushed the glass away finally. His jaw twitched. Shannon was silent.
    â€œRico found out about Temaine. He hired Spence Parkinson to hit Temaine. A little cash independent contract. Spence was an independent hit man. For the right price.”
    He shrugged. “Anyway, it would look like an everyday rival hit. No big deal, right? Rico is about the money and ain’t getting shut out a’ no profits, right?”
    Shannon nodded. “Right.”
    â€œExcept something goes wrong and Jasmine gets hit, seriously jeopardizing Rico’s position.” Michael shifted. He pulled the glass closer again, taking another sip.
    Pure malice leaped from Shannon’s eyes, but Michael was oblivious of it. “Only the tables turned on Rico because the word is that Ballistic hired Spence to hit Rico, which means that Rico paid for a hit he was never gonna get. Spence double-crossed Rico.”
    Michael drained the glass. “Rico’s running scared. So he kills two birds with one stone. One, he has Spence taken out. Two, he sends a powerful message to Ballistic that he ain’t rolling over. A declared war. He pays props for Jazz’s death by taking down her killer. He’s still got time to take care of Temaine. He ain’t suspicious. He thinks the hit was on Rico.” Michael shrugged.
    Shannon beckoned for a glass. He poured a stiff shot, sipping from the liquor. “There’s more.”
    A nervous tick jumped in Michael’s jaw. “Rico wants you out of the way. You’re a liability he can’t afford to worry about. One he didn’t anticipate on having. An angry father with the police watching him.”
    Michael took another sip. He raised his eyebrows at Shannon. “Didn’t your house get hit?” He stood up. He picked up the cigarettes and lighter from the bar, putting them in his pocket.
    Shannon glared sparks of hatred at him. They locked gazes. Michael finally got a sense of something being wrong, off kilter and out of balance, through the alcoholic haze he was floating in. “I can’t afford no leaks, man, or my life ain’t worth two cents.”
    Shannon stood up. He laid two cents on the counter for Michael. “That would be deadly justice.”
    Michael looked at the two pennies. “Yo, man, this ain’t what we discussed, you son of a—”
    Shannon dropped him with a fast right to the jaw. He stepped over him to walk to the men’s room. Down the bar, Smokey frowned at the scene.

Chapter 12
    A fter leaving that nigga Michael Claybay lying in his tracks cold-cocked, Shannon walked down the street in a self-inflicted fog.
    The pain was so deep about losing his daughter that it sliced through him in white-hot spasms of flashing electrical currents. He thought he might get lost in this void and never come back.
    He leaned against a pole and doubled over as another spasm shot through his stomach. As he dry-heaved he realized that just this simple act provided some comfort. At least it provided a physical outlet for his hurt and despair.
    He could deal with the physical. It was what he knew best.
    He wiped his mouth, standing up