Westly pulled shards of glass out of his tongue as two of Myron’s guards went and retrieved chairs for them. Myron returned to his desk, smiling as Westly grimaced with each piece of glass.

“You really did it. I am amazed,” Myron gurgled mockingly.

“Yeah, don’t expect an encore performance,” Westly responded bitterly.

Myron laughed a soft laugh as Holly set the chairs in front of the desk. He pointed his hulking finger at her.

“You tell your old lady what that was?” He said roughly.

“Never seemed important,” Westly said.

Myron slammed his hand on the table, shaking even the heaviest objects.

“So, when I first met Straight Razor, I kept trying to get him to try this great vodka. Northern Lights Vodka. He keeps telling me nah, nah, he’ll stick with this terrible spinach and banana smoothie. So, I tell him that if he destroys the smoothie and drinks the vodka, I would owe him a favor. Ya know I was joking, right, Wes? Yet you come all the way down here thinking this plan is going to work. Gotta say at least you’re entertaining.”

“Got you to talk us,” Westley croaked, spiting the last of the glass on the table.

“Yeah but you are down for the count. Four minutes,” Myron growled.

“Alright let’s get in it. I assume you know the Olenick family?” Westly murmured.

“Rich guy. Can’t say he’s invited me to his country club,” Myron said with a snarl.

“Have you or one of the Wolves been selling him or any of his family Hunter’s Moon?” Westly continued.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business and trust me you don’t want it to be. Three minutes,” Myron said.

“Well soon it’s going to be the Centennial Police Department’s business,” Westly said with hint of anger in his voice.

Several of the guards moved in, clutching their firearms tightly with each step. Holly darted her eyes from Westly to them, slowly gripping his arm. Myron leaned forward on his desk. His dreadlocks fell slowly over the desk darkly framing his scowl.

“Are you threatening me Straight Razor? After I have offered you an olive branch?” He said slowly, letting the words slip out of his mouth.

Holly leaned forwards to obscure Myron’s view of Westly.

“Someone killed Olenick’s ten-year-old son. They poisoned him with Hunter’s Moon and impaled him with a flag. All the way to the back of his head,” she asserted.

Myron’s eyes softened as he leaned back in his chair. His guards retreated, returning their guns to a resting position.

“A kid? Someone used Hunter’s Moon to poison a kid?” He said, trying to keep his voice from cracking.

“Myron-” Westly started.

“That can’t go unpunished,” he growled.

Myron’s eyes stared blankly into the room’s corner, going from soft to hard in seconds, flashing anger at Westly.

“It was Pike wasn’t it?”

“Myron-” Westly started again.

“Don’t bullshit me Wes!” He shouted.

Jumping from his chair, he swung wildly, knocking the low-lit lamp across the room. Westly held his hands up in self defense as Holly crouched in her chair, ready to jump.

“An eyewitness did spot several RMCA soldiers stopping by the house. All I know is that they were selling them Sunshine,” Westly said calmly.

“That shiny sawdust? Yo! Fetch me Kane. Now!” He barked out to the room.

One of the guards exited the door in a hurry. Myron sunk back into his seat; throwing open his desk drawer, he pulled out a bottle of Northern Lights Vodka. He drained about four shot into a glass, throwing it back with one motion.

“This bullshit is just like Pike. Going after kids. One of those kids that was crucified last year went to the same school as my niece. Had no connection to those council members, just wanted to send me a message. I took care of his boyz and shipped them back to him.”

“Zackery Pike is on the terror watch list. If you have proof of his actions that could put him away for good,” Holly interjected.

Myron smiled at flirtatiously.

“Wes your eye candy still singing the company lines. The red white and blue will come and save you is that it? Pike is on a watch list while they know where he is an, yet no one has already snagged him? How ya figure that?”

Holly bit her lip.

“There’s no proof any wrongdoing-”

“Wrong!! Pike preaches his no government horseshit while he slices into a porterhouse at the Governor’s mansion. You think the don’t have proof of his actions? They no they just won’t do anything.”

Westly nodded as Holly glared at him.

“He’s not wrong,” Westly responded sheepishly.

“So what? Your solution is to bankrupt him by selling more drugs? How corporate of you,” she mocked.

Myron smiled slightly, enjoying the jab but unable to mask the anger in his eyes.

“Pike is aware that we have a better product and can cover more ground. He wanted a fight and now he’ll get a war,” he said proudly.

“How are you going to run a war from prison,” she responded.

Myron growled. Kane came rushing into the room. He stared at Westly who gave him a half wave. Myron motioned him over to the desk.

“Tell me you have seen Pike’s boyz talkin with Olenick.

Kane’s eye blank as they flashed over to Westly. Myron snapped his finger in his ear.

“I asked you a question,” he barked.

“Yes, but we reminded them that selling in Centennial was a bad idea. They got the message,” he mumbled.

“When were ya’ll going to tell me this?!” Myron barked again.

“We didn’t think it was a big deal. Pike’s boys are like cockroaches they are always popping and when they do, we squash them.”

“Except you didn’t squash them! They got their hands on some Hunter’s Moon and killed a kid with it. You know what that means? Cops, feds, at our doorstep,” he shouted.

“Myron that is bullshit! There’s no way Pike’s boys got their hands on Hunter’s Moon. This lying bitch tell you that. You forget what he did?! How he just left you?!”

Myron slammed his hand his desk, knocking the glass of vodka off.

“I will never forget! But Westly knew what he was getting into and he came here anyway. That tells me there is some truth to what he says!”

“Or he’s covering his own ass. Maybe Pike put him up to this for a little cheddar.”

Kane stormed over to Westly.

“How bout it Straight Razor? How does Zackery’s cum taste!” He shouted.

Holly stood up and pulled Kane’s Glock from his holster and in one swift motion pistol whipped him across the face. The loud clicking of over a dozen assault rifles filled the room. Myron put his hand up and he pointed his finger to Holly.

“Put the goddamn gun down, now,” he said with soft anger.

Holly nodded and set the gun on the desk.

“I need a drink,” she mumbled.

She stormed back through the door in the wall, leaving Westly alone in the chair. Myron gripped his desk and slumped down, letting out a long breath.

“Damn is she always that fiery? No stopping her,” he said with begrudging pride.

Kane pulled himself up, clasping his eye as it slowly dripped blood. Myron snapped his fingers.

“Unger get Kane some ice and a drink. We aren’t done.”

One of the guards helped Kane to his feet and led him out of the room. Westly turned back to Myron.

“Can we speak privately?”

“After that? What do you think?” Myron said roughly.

“Given the situation you are finding yourself in with Hunter’s Moon I think you’ll want to hear me by yourself,” he said sharply.

Myron ground the back of his teeth slowly scraping them together.

“Clear the room.”

The guards remained motionless while trading glances.

“Now!” He snarled.

The guards slowly walked out the door, each glaring at Westly as they left. The slow thud of boots faded out as the last guard left, leaving Westly alone with Myron. My pulled his pistol from his shoulder holster, setting it in front of him with the barrel pointed directly at Westly’s ribs.

“Say your peace,” he growled.

“Outside of the marijuana plant can’t say I am a very up on the status of certain drugs. However, I am aware of how others’ perception of the drugs. The consensus that I have seen is that Hunter’s Moon is the far superior product. I also know Pike has more money than you in his “tax shelters.” How unlikely is it that one your wolves got greedy and made a deal with Pike?” He said softly.

Myron clenched down hard on the grip of the gun, slowly tapping his large meaty finger on the trigger.

“You think I can’t keep my own house? That one of my Wolves turned bitch and wanted a taste of the good life? Is that what you are saying Wes?” he said in a soft flowing anger.

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Westly trying to move the best he could out of the firing line.

“Nah of course you wouldn’t. You’re always slithering in and out. They shoulda called you Snake Razor.”

“Myron if I am right someone could be screwing you all the way to a jail cell-”

“And if ya wrong I am telling my men that I don’t trust them. That their loyalty is always in question and I will never get that back,” he snarled.

“You gave me a similar speech about Fiona, and I was right about her as well,” he said, instantly regretting his words.

Myron stopped tapping and fully clasped down hard on the trigger. Westly waited for his large finger to click it fully back.

“You…son of a bitch!” He spat, “This is nothing like it was with Fiona!”

Westly held his breath, waiting for bullet to enter his chest. Myron’s finger tightened on the trigger; his eyes fixed on him. Westly slowly lifted his hand to the desk, graciously tapping the front.

“How?” He said in a friendly manner.

Myron released the gun and leaned back in his chair again. He raised his hand to his face, slowly rubbing his salt and pepper mustache.

“Fiona…Fiona was lost. She was constantly looking for something that no one could give her, and I regret I didn’t see that. But I wasn’t the only one with clouded judgement surrounding Star. Tell me, how is Tanya doing?”

Westly felt his blood boil. He knew Myron was trying to get under his skin to force him to reach for the pistol. He gripped the chair tightly and sighed.

“She is a little worse for wear. You didn’t answer my question,” he said quickly.

Myron let out a weak small guttural chuckle.

“Fiona, I let into my life. These boys, they had to earn it. Every action from shining lug nuts to holding a gun, I made sure if they wear a patch, they are loyal to the Wolves and no more. If someone was willing to throw all that away they would have more to deal with than just a guilty conscience.”

“That begs the question. If you are confident your boys didn’t give Pike the recipe than who did? You have any outside help. Any chemist or cooks that aren’t affiliated?”

“You really think I am going to tell you that with all the blue you know?”

“All I care about it who killed the kid. I don’t care about your business endeavors. You got make a living and so do I,” Westly said firmly.

Myron smiled.

“Sure. One thing Wes. That sniveling attorney of yours, what was his name, Orville or something. Some, name from like the 20s.”

“Oliver?”

“Yeah, that piece of human roadkill. I noticed he wasn’t nipping at your heels. You wise up and get rid of him?

Westly ran his tongue across the back of his teeth, slowly taking deep breaths through his nose.

“I fired him after I posted your bail.”

“That so?”

“Yeah.”

“So, if I asked that sexy little wonton out there, she’ll say the same?” Myron asked with a quick motion to the door.

Westly nodded.

“I don’t know why she wouldn’t,” he said, not pulling his eyes from Myron’s.

Myron cracked a half smile and nodded.

“Alright. There is a guy who, lets us use his oven. He’s got a small facility in Genesse. That’s a bit of drive but it is lovely.”

Westly nodded.

“Let me guess his name is Chet?”

“Turnip.”

“Shitty parents?” Westly said, shocked.

“We call him that because he always manages to turn up. And he’s a dumpy looking white boy with purple hair.”

“Alright then,” Westly said, closing his notebook.

He had just stood up when Myron caught his wrist.

“What do I get out this besides still being able to ride?” He said sharply.

“If all goes well. Pike shouldn’t be a competitor anymore,” Westly responded.

“I’ll hold you to that. You are running out of rope.” Myron threatened.

“Well-”

Before Westly could finish his thought, the door burst open, and Sky came in a huff, jingling the metal in her boots with every heavy step.

“We got robbed!!” She screamed.

“Boy Kane can’t keep anything quiet,” Westly said, annoyed.

Sky pushed past Westly and leaned forward on Myron’s desk.

“What are we going to do, baby?

“We wait to see who gave it to Pike. That is what Westly will, help us with. Pro bono.”

Westly was about to protest when Sky cut him off.

“Baby, if you let Pike off with this, he’ll think you’re weak. So will the Wolves,” she said with a slight whine in her voice.

She ran her long finger from his collar bone down to his belt buckle.

“Show them who is really the one with all the power,” she whispered while biting her lip.

Several Wolves came in, slowly filling the room like grains of sand in an hourglass. Holly pushed through a few of them to make her way to Westly. The Wolves created a half moon around Myron’s desk. Myron stood up slowly to face them, taking note of each face.

“So, you all heard the news? Some bastard killed a kid with Hunter’s Moon. The kid was impaled straight through his neck to the back of his head. We all know who takes great pride in his harm of children.”

“Pike!” The crowd shouted.

Westly looked the Holly with a sense of dread. Myron continued.

“Exactly. Hunter’s Moon is our brand. We cook it! We supply it! We make sure where it goes and who is using it! Now I know all of you are loyal. Not a soul here has nothing but respect for this club, but if anyone has heard something other than news we heard today. I will now listen.”

The entire room fell silent, each person looking at a the other for guidance. Myron slammed his hand on the desk.

“That is what I thought. This is how Pike operates. Like a butcher and the only thing a butcher understands is violence. So, let’s give him some!”

The crowd erupted in cheers. Westly quickly approached Myron and whispered to him.

“Myron I-”

“You do what you need to do Wes. I will do the same.”

He swung the Sig into his holster and marched out from behind his desk. The crowd followed him, howling loudly. Westly and Holly got swept up in the crowd as it led out to the main bar and up the stairs. Westly and Holly glanced repeatedly back at one another, hoping not to lose sight of each other. The crowd burst through the main doors and rushed to the line of bikes. Myron walked up to a large black fat boy with a silver wolf’s head headlight. With one kick it roared on like the first clap of thunder in a storm. The rest followed suit, revving their engines with loud booms that echoed out through the overpass. Myron gave Westly a final glare and with a swift kick of the kickstand, he roared down the road as the rest of the Wolves followed him. Westly and Holly stood on the sidewalk waiting until the last booming engine had faded off into the distance. Westly took out his phone and dialed.

“Oliver, you still with Detective Buckley? Tell him we may have just started a gang war.”