Page 10 of Bones
“Daisy bunny,” I say as we pull up in front of the school. “I want you to have a great day, okay?”
“Okay Daddy,” she says in a much sweeter voice than she had earlier. Away from her brother, she’s in a much better mood.
I walk her to her teacher and wave goodbye. I’m grateful to be done with the hardest part of my entire week. Every Thursday, I hope it’ll go more smoothly. I’m always disappointed when it goes the same. I turn the car on and a bright, childlike voice immediately fills my speakers, telling me to clap my hands. I change the station, finding a local news station for my drive back home.
“In local news, we’ve gotten reports that the notorious Bayou Reapers gang was raided last night,” a serious voice says over the radio. “The raid was a joint effort between the police force and the mayor’s office. It’s the first major bust we’ve seen since Mayor Prudent announced his crackdown on crime organizations in the city.”
I turn the radio off and pull over, my mind reeling. The Bayou Reapers are the most notorious gang in New Orleans. They’ve been wreaking havoc on the city since before I was born. They go underground every few months when their crimes get too high profile. Unlike our club, they’ve got a reputation for being incredibly violent and destructive.
When I was a teen, one of their recruiters reached out to me. They saw an angry kid on the street and offered me money and protection. Coco would have never forgiven me if I joined them. She didn’t like their method of getting things done, and I can’t blame her. The Ruthless Kings were much tamer by comparison, even all those years ago. They had their illegal activities, sure, but they weren’t blowing up government buildings and spreading anarchy.
Back then, we were low-level gun runners. Now, we’ve become the largest arms dealers in the state, but we’re very careful about who we sell to. The leader of the Bayou Reapers tried to buy a large stock from us years ago, but I wasn’t having it. I didn’t know what they needed them for. I didn’t want to be part of whatever they had planned. To this day, it haunts me.
They’ve kept a lower profile in the last decade, but their threat persists. Their name is spoken through hushed tones and in reverent disdain. The mayor taking them down shows that he’s beyond serious about his war on crime. I’m sure this bust was brewing for months, but who’s to say they aren’t working on an investigation on us?
I hate being in the dark about these things. We used to have Snake here to keep an eye on police chatter and let us know if anyone was looking into us. But he’s been traveling around Europe for months, with no apparent plan to return. He has to come back eventually, I’m sure, but now isn’t a great time for him to be on an extended honeymoon. Hex and Juliana have paused their yearly trip to Brazil.
Things in the city have been tense for the last few weeks. All the gangs have felt it. It’s quiet on the streets. Maybe we deluded ourselves into thinking Mayor Prudent wanted that all along. It’s a false sense of security. He’s coming for all of us.
I should go back to my house to clean up the spilled cereal and try to organize the disaster my children created this morning. But the words of the news anchor spin through my head. All I can think about is my brothers. We’re screwed if they pin us to the wall. It won’t be a huge feat from there to get us.
As I approach my house, I bypass it entirely, driving straight to the clubhouse. The mess inside can wait. I have a much larger mess to help clean up. I’m not sure if Seer’s heard the news yet. He’ll be in a fit the second he does. He’ll need me there to talk it over.
After I pull in, I walk up to the house, taking the porch steps two at a time. I head straight for Seer’s office. I find him there alone, as I’d suspected I would. He looks up at me in surprise, knowing it’s my hell morning. I usually come to see him much later on Thursdays.
“Did Abigail take off work today?” he asks in confusion, checking his watch.
“No, asshole,” I grumble, plopping into one of the chairs across from his desk. “Did you hear about the Bayou Reapers?” I’m bursting at the seams to share what I’ve learned.
“What have they done now?” he asks in a wary tone.
“They’ve been raided.”
The color drains from his face. He turns to his computer, furiously typing something. A second later, he turns the screen toward me so we can both see the news story. No new information than what I heard on the radio, but we know what this means. Either we import flowers instead of guns, or we’re screwed.
“How long do you think they’ve been planning that raid?” He looks at me with trepidation.
“A few months, at least,” I guess. “Maybe a year. They probably had to bring the feds in on it.”
“There goes our hard-earned tax dollars,” he jokes. His face is still pale.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m way too sober for this conversation.” I stand and head toward the door.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Pocus and I sit at the bar while Buffy makes us old fashioneds. I drop my head in my hands and massage my temples. I’m stressed about the news of the Bayou Reapers. Mayor Prudent isn’t screwing around. Other mayors would have announced a crackdown on crime and worked their way up to the Reapers. Not Prudent. He took out the big dogs first.
“We’re fucked,” I groan, my eyes trained on the bar. “Seriously, Pocus, I wouldn’t be surprised if the FBI busts down the door any second.”
“They won’t find anything,” he says in a calm voice.
I don’t know how he’s keeping his cool right now. It baffles me. “You keep everything offsite. The most they’ll find is a dusty computer that hasn’t been touched in months.”
“How is Snake?” Buffy interjects, handing us our drinks.
“I got a postcard from Rome,” I tell him, then take a much-needed sip of my drink. “It just saidMuch love, Snake and Francesca. So I have no idea when he’s coming back. If he’s coming back.”
“What about that kid?” Pocus suggests, referring to Data.