Page 63 of Off the Rails

But I shrugged. “I plead the fifth.” With the office door closed, I crossed my arms. “What do you want?”

Gesturing to the chair, Dom spoke. “Sit, please.”

“No, thanks.” Blade and I answered in unison. Despite being equals in our business, Blade usually trusted me most to handle the talking.

Unable to stand still, Blade moved toward a metal bookshelf and started to pick random knickknacks.

Dom watched her with a furrowed brow.

“Get on with it, Dumont. I don’t have all day.” I sneered. Sure, Dom had declared Valemont her territory. But Feverpoint was a land of its own. And I was not going to be some feudal lord, answering to a tyrant.

If she kept the peace, so would I.

“We’ve taken control of Valemont. Crime is down.” Dom looked proud until a dark cloud came over her eyes. “Except for the trade.”

I kept my face level. If she wanted to make a target of me, she’d lose. That much I knew for sure. We liked to employ guerilla warfare and these bikers were playing toy soldiers.

Blade had pulled open the back of a clock, metal clattering against the shelf.

“What is she doing?” Dom hissed.

“Fixing something you didn’t know was broken.” I pushed on. “What’s your point?”

Turning back to the topic at hand and trying to ignore Blade’s prying, Dom lifted her chin. “I admire your organization’s commitment to keeping your shit clean and as minimally addictive as possible.”

When we’d gotten into the drug trade, I knew we needed a hard line. Otherwise, we’d get greedy. People were always going to want to experiment, to get a cheap thrill. It would be foolish to assume we could eliminate a human urge.

We were animals, all of us.

I was just more honest about what drove me.

But my patience was wearing thin, niceties doing jack-fucking-shit for me.

From the corner, Blade slammed the clock back on the shelf. “What’s the ask, big dog?”

Sighing, Dom shook her head. “I’d like to enlist your help. The other dealers are dangerous. They don’t care about what their product does to our people. Valemont deserves better than the laced garbage they traffic here.”

She lifted her hand before I could speak. “I know the turf wars have stopped your expansion. And I respect your desire to keep things peaceful.”

There was a caveat coming, I could smell it a mile away.

“I want you to take over the entire drug trade in Valemont. Eliminate your competitors, stop the flow of the hard shit.” Dom’s shoulders rolled back, her tattooed hands clasping together.

My jaw tensed, it was an intriguing offer. “What’s in it for us?”

Raising her arms, Dom looked like a proper fucking gangster. “All the money, the power, you’ve been missing out on. No one selling shit you refuse to carry. Glory. Fucking hard cash. All of it is yours. So long as you keep it clean.

“Violence will stay out of your way and we’ll keep the cops off your back too.”

Looking out the window at my Supernova Red Aston Martin, I licked my teeth. Money was the last thing I gave a fuck about. I had plenty of it. I’d used my earnings from our trade to buy property all over Valemont, I’d refurbished dozens of abandoned buildings. I could retire to the fucking Caribbean and avoid extradition for the rest of my days if I pleased.

I met Dom’s icy blue eyes, “It will be bloody.”

I knew she had the stomach for it. Everyone in the world had seen the type of Justice she’d exacted on her father.

“One last push and then there’s peace. Seems worth it to me.” Dom nodded.

It was a good deal, a way to bring us in. Something The Oracle had been desperate to do for years, and we’d managed to keep our relationship with them strictly equitable. They sent us the worst of the worst and we cashed a hefty check.