Basilisk's Vengeance (Black Diamond Rattlers MC Book 3) by Noah Maddix & Raven Scott

Author:Noah Maddix & Raven Scott [Maddix, Noah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-26T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen: Meet LaMonte Cole

Basilisk

Before I reached the back table where LaMonte Cole sat with his associates—I assumed they were his associates—he nodded to the men behind him. One of them stepped forward and held his hand out with his palm facing me.

Not having a death wish, I stopped. Mr. Cole’s security stomped forward. He motioned with his hands, and I raised my arms to the side. This was why I left my gun in the secret compartment inside my trunk. It spoke highly of LaMonte Cole too.

Organized crime should be just that—organized. The more a criminal enterprise ran itself like a business, the better. Well, for the most part. A sloppy organization that was heavy on improvisation was doomed to fail. Underlings could easily take advantage of the chaos to bleed their bosses dry. Morale was never high in a gang like that, inviting informants and turncoats. Mr. Cole’s ship appeared to be well-run.

The guard patted me down, starting at the shoulders and moving lower. He immediately felt my shoulder holster and yanked open my suit coat. The sunglasses he wore covered his eyes and brows, but I could see his forehead wrinkle.

“What? Did you think I was stupid enough to try to meet with Mr. Cole armed?” I asked, probably more sarcastically than I should have.

Behind the guard, Cole chuckled. One of his associates shook his head. The brute giving the pat-down ignored me and checked lower, finishing at my ankles. Finally, he stood back up and turned to Mr. Cole. He nodded before returning to his sentry post behind the boss.

“Thank you for the time, Mr. Cole.” I bowed my head and motioned toward the empty seat across from him.

For a long moment, he didn’t move. He just watched me, leaning back in his chair with his head tilted to the side. A single nod gave me permission to join the table. I dropped into the chair, planning to take a sip of my soda before continuing, but Mr. Cole beat me to it.

“You seem to know a lot more about me than I know about you.” He leaned forward, dropping an elbow to the table and resting a hand on his chin. “I think an introduction is in order, don’t you?”

A couple of the other men at the table chuckled at that. All three of them watched me with the level of suspicion I’d earned, both from having the gall to approach their boss in the first place and after my quick demonstration out front.

“You can probably tell I’m not from around here,” I began, earning a couple more mirthless chuckles out of LaMonte Coles peanut gallery. “I’m from out West, in California. My Associates call me Basilisk.”

“You’re a long way from home, Basilisk.” Cole chewed on the name, almost turning it into a question. “Two more questions. Who are these associates you are talking about, and why are you in my territory, especially my neighborhood?”

One of those questions I had no problem answering. Discussing my associates was an interesting conundrum, though.

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