Page 84 of Thug

“Four men can keep a secret, as long as three of ‘em are dead,” he said.

“It gets worse.”

He coughed out a laugh. “The hell, you say?”

“If I’m keeping this girl, I’ve got to tell the men what happened. It’s the only way they’ll accept her as being trustworthy. I’m the president of this clu—gang, and I’m not going to have the men questioning my decision to let her into my life. If they know up front what she’s been through, they’ll immediately accept her. I owe it to her to tell ‘em.”

“Agree with you on that one.”

“Well,” I said. “When I do, one of them is going to fly hot, and it’s hard saying how he’s going to react. He’s kind of sweet on her, and when he hears about the other guy kidnapping her, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Sweet?” he gave me a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“His little sister died in a car wreck. She reminds him of her. He’s looking after her like a brother.”

“The fella that kidnapped her made his bed,” he said. “Now, it’s time for him to lay in it.”

He and I agreed on that issue. Although it was going to be tough to tell Panzer the truth, it had to be done. There was the possibility he’d accept it better than I expected. In time, I’d know for sure.

I set my empty glass on the bar. “That’s all I’ve got for now.”

He extended his hand. “Glad you stopped by. You’re welcome any time, Son. Any time. Bring that gal with you, sometime. If she doesn’t turn tail and run after she finds out what really happened.”

I shook his hand. “I will.”

He nodded at our hands as we shook. “You know what started the handshake?”

“I guess not.”

“Outlaws started it, 1,500 years ago. Extending your empty right hand showed that you weren’t armed. If the other fella shook your hand, he was showing you that he wasn’t armed, either. It became a friendly gesture. I come in peace.”

“Interesting.”

He nodded his head toward the living room. “Read every one of those damned books in that bookcase. Might look like a dumb old fart, but I’m not. I’ll make it a point to teach you something new each time you come by, how’s that?”

“Sounds good.” I faced the door. “Wish me luck.”

“Do you know what luck is?

I turned around. “What’s that?”

“A fool’s means of justification.” He tipped his hat. “You’re no fool, Son.”

I hoped like hell he was right.

23

Gray

Price was staring at the clock like a mindless idiot. He’d been in the same position for ten minutes. Wondering if he’d had a seizure, I leaned onto the edge of the bar and rapped my knuckles against the countertop. “Hell-o?”

His gaze drifted into mine.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

He gave me a blank look. “Who says there’s anything going on?”

“I just did.”