"Fu-uck." Alejandro picked up the phone. "Yeah?" he barked.

 

Ali could hear an animated voice on the other end.

 

"Wait, what?" Alejandro rubbed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Shit. No. Yes. No, just hang on. I'll be there in ten."

 

He hung up and groaned, leaning until his forehead rested against Ali's. "I gotta go."

 

"There's a spare key hidden in the fern on the table out back. If you come back, just let yourself in if I'm asleep, okay?" She looked tired but her eyes still sparkled with promise.

 

"Yeah, Baby." He cupped his hand around her mound and kissed her tenderly. "Go to bed and I'll see you in the morning."

 

***

 

"We got a problem," Pitbull announced grimly when Alejandro charged into the clubhouse. "You know I'd never bother you this late unless it was an emergency."

 

"Get to it," Alejandro stripped off his gloves.

 

"Remember when Dobie said that Crockett was about to split off from the Bezerkerz."

 

"Shit. Did that happen?"

 

"Well, yeah, but it's worse than just that. Crockett and Spidey had a huge falling out. Crockett brought some new guys on board, and the word I just got from Dobie is that Crockett's new club is going under the protection of the Diablos. Getting patched in and everything."

 

"Fuck!" Alejandro's voice echoed off the warehouse walls. "That means the Diablos would have protection from the DEA. But they're already under investigation!"

 

"Unofficially. And maybe that's why they agreed to take Crockett's club under their own," Pitbull suggested. "His cousin must be part of the deal."

 

"That crafty little fucker," Alejandro growled. "What's Spidey gonna do about this?" He walked to the fridge, pulled out a beer, and popped the top.

 

"That's the thing. I think he's gonna ask us to go in on a hit to get rid of Crockett."

 

Alejandro paused mid-swallow and set the beer down on the table next to him. "Whoa--what?"

 

"A hit. To get rid of Crockett. I can't be positive, but I think that's where Spidey's going next."

 

"Says who? Dobie?"

 

Pitbull nodded.

 

"Fuck." And if we have to go in on a hit, we set a precedent, Alejandro thought. We do it once, every motherfucker from here to the coast will tap us as hired hit men. We're supposed to be moving hot product and bringing a few people over the border. Not killing people for the highest bidder. "Anything else?" he asked.

 

Pitbull nodded. "Actually, there is." He pulled out his phone and showed Alejandro several pictures of a black car. "This car's been following me all day, man. I saw it like five times today. Just before I called you, it was parked outside for the longest time. You see what's on the hood?" He tapped the screen with his fingertip.

 

Alejandro frowned and squinted. The picture was blurry but after a while, he made out the distinctive green devil. Cold sweat broke out down his back. "They don't waste time, do they?"

 

Pitbull nodded. "If anything, I'd say they're ahead of schedule."

 

***

 

The Diablos Verdes obviously weren't satisfied with the piece of the pie they'd gotten. They wanted the whole thing, but Alejandro sure as hell wasn't going to just sit back and let them take it.

 

"I don't want you going anywhere by yourself, you understand?" he told Pitbull. "That goes for everyone in this club. I'm calling a meeting for tomorrow morning. Tell everyone they better be there."

 

He swore under his breath and paced back and forth. Alejandro wished he could call Turk, but it was too late at night to bother the old man. He knew what he'd say, anyhow. The DVs were thumbing their noses at the Padre Knights, and they couldn't let them get away with it. The Diablos had started with Haji, and now Crockett was leaving the Berzerkerz and heading his own club under their protection--a club that not only cut away some of the paid work from the other clubs but also left the Padres exposed to DEA investigation.

 

He had to do something, and quick.