Chapter 77: Drummer Boys Flash Gang Signs

Bodie

"What the fuck?" I mutter to Marley in disbelief. She's also looking back with a face of surprise. I just asked the driver to pull inat the next exit, because Gwen has to pee, and he...he objected. Said traffic was heavy and there was a less busy exit fifteen minutes down the road.

"Maybe he's...new?" Marley muses.

New or not, our Atlanta security detail are pro's. Our driver-slash-security guys do not object to mundane shit. They find a way to do what they are asked, even if it's a security inconvenience.

"I can wait," Gwen the pretty peacemaker says at once, reading the irritation on my face.

"Naw." I punch the call button again. "Dude, it wasn't a suggestion."

Silence is his only reply. Marley and I exchange another surprised glance. She crawls across my lap to punch the button and go merciless manager on him, but I grab her hands, wrapping them behind her as I kiss her. Darius snorts, but I ignore him.

"You're off the clock, Gorgeous. I got this."

I slide her off my lap and crawl up the ridiculously large interior to the privacy window. It's locked. I rap.

Is it me, or does he open reluctantly?

"Yes sir?" he says, with the kind of resentment that I recognize.

Ah. It happens sometimes...a surly service worker. Especially with a young guy like this. He doesn't look a day over twenty-two. In fact, he looks a little lightweight to be a security guy.

Either way, Dude apparently resents the fuck out of "servicing" rich people for a living. Still, he don't exactly make minimum wage working security so he needs to straighten up.

"Listen, what's your name? Cause I need to know, for the Gram I'm posting about being kidnapped," I joke.

He gives me a sharp look, but then he laughs a little nervously and his tone lightens considerably. "I'm sorry, sir. I...I've...it's...my first week."

Maybe it's just the soft Irish accent that makes him sound more agreeable as he says, "It's a bit of a juggle, making the exit safely, thinking about the security logistics of what you asked, taking a call from dispatch, and answering you from the back..."

"It's cool, just pull off here," I gesture at the QT sign rising above the exit. He nods tersely.

I sigh when we pull in and he's still got the back doors locked. Gwen squirms a little as we wait on him to open the door. Darius, usually attentive and gentlemanly, is absorbed by some TikTok on his phone and doesn't follow her out.

It's just as well. This is an urban hood, and I feel better being the one to walk her in.

Unbelievably, the driver follows. Man, this kid really doesn't know his job. He should stay with the car. My woman and kid are in there. I'll have to speak to his supervisor, because all my security guys know that they are the primaries, not me, when on my detail.

I'm standing by the hallway to bathroom in the back, glaring at him as he stands by the glass door at the front. His eyes are roving. He ignores two black girls that exit—barely moving to make way for them. Then a pretty teenage white girl approaches to leave with her purchase. He smiles brightly and opens the door for her.

Ah. Not just new to the job and resentful of rich people. He's not going to make it on my detail.I look at him more closely, trying to figure out if he even realizes his prejudices, because a lot of people don't—

His jacket sleeve rides up as he stretches to open the door wide for the girl. That's when I see it.

The bottom edge of a shamrock tattoo, with the word POWER across the bottom.

I don't have to see anymore of it to know what it is. I've described that tat to Varrick more than once in our debriefings. It's on every member of Sully Lorcan's cell that I've ever met.

I rub a hand over my face, thinking fast.

Something big is happening, Varrick said.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuck.

I slip down the hall to the women's bathroom door. I can hear the hand dryer blowing. I knock lightly.

Gwen swings open the door, and I put a finger to her lips. "Be quiet a second."

I pull her through the Do Not Enter door to the stockroom, and her eyes widen in surprise. "Is there a pap out there or something?" she whispers.

I ignore her question.I'm trying to call Varrick. He doesn't answer. He always fucking answers. I try again, and a third time.

Jesus, Varrick, why do you have to be banging my moms? Ever, but right now, especially?

Ok, ok. Be cool, Bodie. Think.

There are two ways I can play this. I can tell Gwen to run out the back, call for help. Or I can make a distraction in the store with the guy and use Gwen to warn Marley and Darius. Maybe they can all get away. But it's risky...if the guy realizes what I'm doing...

Is he armed? Would he unload on them if he saw them all trying to escape?

Still, it might be the only chance I have to get my family out of whatever this is.

But she's a child. So is Darius, but Darius does have some street sense and Gwen...she's as innocent as they come. She really doesn't belong in this mess.  I picture Adam,  his face whenever Lennon  falls down or gets a little banged up, flashes in my mind...

I make my decision. I can't make any other. I can not drag one more innocent person down into my fucking shit. I won't put Adam's niece in the line of fire. Not even to help Darius and Marley. That's on me, not her.

"Bodie?" she asks uncertainly, her brown eyes full of worry.

"Listen to me. I have gang ties, did you know that?"

"Y-yes. Darius told me."

"Our driver? He's not from my security. He must have knocked out my security guy or something and took his clothes. He's...from a different gang. A gang that's apparently gotta beef with me now, or with my gang."

"A rival gang?"

"Yes. Real tough gang. Real rough," I say quickly. I'm pulling her to the back door. "I need you to do exactly what I say, okay? I need you to go out this back door. When you open it, the alarm is going to sound and that guy is going to come rushing back here, and I'm going to stop him from chasing you. I need you to run like hell to the Waffle House a little down the street, and I need you to lock yourself in the bathroom and call Adam.

"Tell him I'm in trouble with gang shit. Tell him I helped you get away and you are safe at the Waffle House in Hapeville. Tell him to get in touch with Varrick Von—tell him to go bang the door down at his Four Seasons Suite if he has to-- and tell him Bodie said, a little leprechaun is driving my family in my limo."

"What?"

"It's a code."

"Oh! Right! Because he owns your security company!" Gwen says quickly, because she's a smart kid, and putting it together. Putting it together wrong, but it works, so I agree.

"Right. Tell me, what are you supposed to say?"

"A...a little leprechaun is driving your family in your limo."

"Exactly that, Gwen. Not a rival gang member. A little leprechaun. Adam doesn't know about the codes I have with Varrick but he has to say exactly that to Varrick. Make sure he understands. A little leprechaun."

"Okay. I'll make sure Adam understands."

"Good girl. Get your phone out. Take your shoes off. Run like hell to the Waffle House. Don't stop. Not even to dial before you get there. Run, get safe in that place full of people, lock yourself in the bathroom, then call. Do you understand?"

"But...but..." she looks toward the door we came in through, and it hits her. It all hits her. "Darius—" she whimpers.

"It's my job to keep Darius safe. You are helping me do that, okay?"

She starts to cry. I hate myself but I shake her slightly. "Gwen! You can't do this right now! Darius needs a ride-or-die right now, not a little girl! You get me!?!?"

She bites her lip and narrows her eyes against the tears. She nods her head so fiercely her braids come loose and then she's slipping from her heels.

"Ready? Deep breath. Again. Go!" I throw open the door and like I expected, the alarm sounds. Gwen is gone around the side of the building, disappearing in the dark before the Irish prick busts in through the stockroom door with a pistol.

He grabs me roughly, but I grab him right back. I figure, the best defense is a good offense.

The clerk is banging on the door now but the Irish prick has jammed it in some way.

"Where's the girl?" he growls.

"She's gone!!!" I shake him even as he juts the gun up under my ribs. He ain't gonna shoot me. He's a little leprechaun and whatever's going down, he was trying to take me to where the big leprechauns are.

"She's gone!!!" I yell again, shoving him. " She doesn't know anything. I told her you were from a local rival gang. She's just gonna call her uncle to pick her up. She ain't got no part of this. Whatever beef your crew has with me, she ain't got no part. Neither does my manager, or her kid."

At the mention of Marley and Darius, the guy's lip curls in a sneer. "Your manager? Her kid? Didn't seem like that in the limo. Wasn't I taking you all home—to the same place?"

I don't reply. Best to say nothing. Obviously Sully has got wind of my personal life, despite how private I try to keep that.

"Let them go. They don't have any fucking idea about our business. Let them go and I'll come easy—"

"You'll come easy because they are already hooded and bound in a van beside the limo."

Nausea punches me in the gut at the same time my chest explodes in fire. I feel like I might hurl and die at the same time.

Oh god. Please. Please. Oh god...

My phone rings. It isn't God calling but Varrick.

Close enough.

Of course the little leprechaun grabs my phone and crushes it underfoot, then shoves me out the back door and walks me swiftly around the building, hiding the gun.

But apparently, God ain't done tryna help me out, because a familiar vehicle glides slowly to a stop in the parking space in front of us. I can't see the driver but I know it must be Malik. The passenger is Jalen. This hood is their dealing turf and I shoulda realized, this place is one of their drops.

Malik and Jalen are the two homies that were with me when we did Cain Priestly. We ain't exactly friends, but we are tight as far as my Sixmob associates go.

I see Jalen's face react with surprise to see me here at a convenience store in Hapeville, but I don't react  except to flash our gang sign down by the window as I pass. Then, as I am escorted to the van, I make a show of shirking the Irish prick—just slightly. I hope it's enough that my hostile gesture registers with Malik and Jalen. I hope, coupled with my gang sign, they read my silent message.

I'm in trouble, and I need back-up.

This was a transition chapter...I'm working on the BIG Couple of Chapters that follow! You'll have them as soon as I figure out how it all goes down...I know where we end up, but alot of action happens to get us there...patience please!!!!