Free Brigends (The Final War Series Book 1) by Russell Krone Page B

didn’t see me.”
    Tank placed a palm on Max’s shoulder. The weight of the mechanical hand was heavy and the boy’s knees buckled. “You know I can’t do that. I love my job too much. Go on. Grow a pair and see her.”
    “How about helping me, you know like old times?”
    “You ain’t a kid anymore.”
    “Alright,” he sighed. “But, only for you.”
    Tank slapped him on the back, almost knocking him over.
    “Hey, if I don’t come back alive, just know I love you, man.” His heart skipped out of sync with the music spewing from the club. Petrified numbness made the first step seem impossible. The second and third were easier, but not by much.
    “Hey, what about your bike?”
    The fate of someone else's property wasn't his concern. If it got snatched, he would just shop for another. “It’s okay. It ain’t mine.”
    Max disappeared inside the club.
    Tank shook his squat head. That boy was heading nowhere good.
     
    Max entered by way of the service area into the main lounge where hundreds of clubbers crammed the largest of the two dance floors. In the smoke, holographic patterns of psychedelic lines bounced to the beat of the relentless tracks. At the crescent-shaped bar, bartenders poured libations to greedy customers.
    Weaving across the dance floor, he stopped to watch two sexy girls gyrating on one another. The seductresses noticed his attention and returned the favor by pulsating on his sides. Before he reluctantly tore from their favor, one of the girls pulled him to her and latched his lips to hers, delivering a signature calling card with her mouth’s moistness.
    He groaned. “Oh, if only I had the time.”
    Hidden in an ignored alcove at the far end of the club, Zoe saw him move from the girls and go to the grand staircase. She repositioned outside the range of flashing lights to better trace his movements as he climbed the risers to the top floor, minding not to draw undesirable notice to her attendance.
    Concerned for her brigend mark, she ruffled her blouse collar to cover her neck. Incognito was pointless for many reasons, one of which was her choice of attire. It was not up to par with the affluent excesses flaunted around her. The females were more or less naked in their sheer outfits. By lifting their hands in the air, they raised hemlines and exposed parts that were typically hidden by modest attire. Because her prudish fashion sense was a generation or two out of style, a few judgmental eyes drifted her way.
    With nothing for her to do but wait for his reappearance, her awareness roamed to the large viewer screens bolted over the bar. The latest hunter snatches displayed in ultra-dimensional clarity to the crowd’s delight. When the report of the Vega Brothers’ latest victories recapped, bookies paid out jackpots to the lucky gamblers. People cheered at the monetary value of Bronson’s death bounty. Zoe’s hate boiled in her veins. She wanted to seal up the club and burn it to the ground with these elitist scum trapped inside.
    Her teeth dug the cracks of her bottom lip.
    Calm down ! I’m not here to start a fight .
     
    Max rooted his feet to the floorboards outside the office door. By confessing to his latest indiscretions, he predicted there would be plenty of yelling, cursing, and the always excruciating ear tugging.
    Standing there, he felt like he did when he was the troublesome ten-year old caught stealing booze from the storeroom and selling shots to the local kids. By that age, he had learned to run when her anger flared. To avoid her raging conniption for that misdeed, he hid from her for days. After a while, she resorted to hiring a bounty hunter. Putting a prize on a child’s head may seem overly excessive to most rational adults, but for her, that was a reasonable reaction.
    He inhaled another courage breath. Feeling cocky from the oxygen’s euphoric rush, he twisted the doorknob and swaggered inside. Seeing Boss Cho sitting in a chair across from Patti’s desk