38

It was just before dawn when Meyer showed up at his mother’s place in the city. He felt like he’d lost a brother. He felt defeated. Luna was gone, and it was painful.

He stood in the center of his mother’s place looking withdrawn and sullen. Murder was nothing to him. He’d done it plenty of times, and the blood of his victims was an eternal stain on his soul. But to kill a friend—a man like Luna—it was the only time he would feel any remorse.

Layla walked to her mini bar and fixed herself a quick drink—a tall vodka on ice. Wearing a long, beige robe with fur, she seemed to glide toward Meyer. She wanted to hear it come from his mouth. It looked like Meyer had gone through with it, and now he showed regret. There were no tears—better not be—but sadness was inside of him.

“So, is it done?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s done. He’s dead.”

“You did a good thing, Meyer. I’m proud of you.”

He felt no pride.

“Where’s the body?” she asked him.

“Why you ask?”

“I’m going to tell Scott you found out that Luna was behind the ambush at his place and Bugsy’s beating. And you killed him for it.”

She believed it would take the heat off of Meyer once Bugsy woke up and told his version of the story.

It was suicide, Meyer believed. “You wanna do what?” he said.

There was no way Scott would believe that Luna would go against the grain. He had always been loyal, and he would never attack Scott and Bugsy unless he were ordered to. Besides, he thought she wanted Scott to believe it was Deuce. Why change up the plan?

“It doesn’t make sense,” he griped.

“Let’s get in front of the problem and be proactive, because Bugsy is going to wake up, and when he does, hell is going to break loose.”

Meyer shook his head. “We don’t know for sure that Bugsy knew it was us! And his brain got fucked up, right? Who knows what he’ll remember?”

The gates of hell were already open, he believed. But what was his mother suddenly so concerned about? She hated Scott and she wanted to see the man broken. This was war, right? Not Let’s Make a Deal.

“My son is strong. He’s a West. He’ll remember everything.”

Meyer thought for a beat. “How much did we score from this lick?”

“Just over seventeen million. Your father won’t let this shit go so Luna is the sacrificial lamb, Meyer. Get that shit through your fuckin’ head.”

Meyer continued, “If you’re suddenly so afraid of his wrath, then give him the money back.”

Layla slapped her son hard in the face.

“I’m not giving shit back, and I’m not afraid of anyone,” she retorted. “And why the fuck you keep telling me to give Scott back my fuckin’ money? This is the second time you’ve said that shit. First the fifty million, and now this. Are you fuckin’ retarded, Meyer? All I’ve done to build up this empire and my husband didn’t leave me a crumb. Not ten fuckin’ dollars to buy a box of tampons.”

“What about us? Me and Lucky? We deserve some of that money too! You and Pop ain’t build this shit alone.”

“Boy, bye with that bullshit.” Layla rolled her eyes dismissively and continued with, “I have a plan. And I need Luna’s body. Where is it?”

“In the river,” he lied.

Her face tightened with distress. “In the river?”

“I had Luna meet me by the docks and dumped his body in the water.”

“You fuckin’ idiot!” she cursed.

“You wanted him dead, right?”

“I wanted him dead and the body displayed—not made missing. How stupid are you? What’s the point of killing Luna if not to show Scott the body?”

Meyer frowned. “You said kill him, and I did! How the fuck I know what your secret plan was? I’m no mind reader.”

“You’re not a fuckin’ child, Meyer. You’re a grown man, and you need to think.” Layla tapped her forehead repeatedly to make her point. “I can’t always hold your hand. I swear, if this were Bugsy, he would understand what I meant without me having to draw him a damn map, like you.”

Her sharp comment stung Meyer like a horde of killer bees. Like his father, she was comparing him to Bugsy. She was belittling him. Everyone respected Meyer on the streets, but he couldn’t get respect from his own parents.

“Don’t go there wit’ me!” he shouted.

“Shut up. I need to fix this.”

“I do everything for you!” he shouted.

“Clearly not correctly,” she rebuked.

“If we tell Pop it was Luna, he won’t believe it anyway.”

Meyer knew Scott wouldn’t fall for any bullshit like that. He would believe they were involved. In his eyes, his mother was playing with fire. She was delusional. One minute she was the big bad wolf, and the next, she was worried about Scott and the consequences. Since when did she care about consequences? Layla did whatever she wanted when she wanted.

Meyer felt like she was ready to wave the white flag. Was it because of Bugsy being hurt? Did the bitch finally have a conscience about something?

When she said to him, “He’ll kill us all,” Meyer burst open with rage and screamed, “I’m not scared of that muthafucka! He can suck my dick! Fuck him! Fuck everybody!”

Both his parents had pissed him off—and without Luna, he felt alone. He was ready to erupt like a volcano and raise hell.