Chapter Twenty One
Joseph Kingi junior was getting impatient, he had not heard from his father or his father’s lawyer and he wanted to get on with it. That bitch in the next room was on heat, he could smell her from where he was and she would need to see to her to very soon, before the drugs really took hold. If that happened then she would be no good to anyone, just another strung-out whore and he could have as many of those as he wanted. She was going to be his prize. He knew deep down that his father’s attempt at being released was a long shot, the desperate actions of a scared old man, someone who had lost control and wanted out. There was no ‘out’ in their game, you were a dog for life and that was that.
“This is a fucking waste of time.” He said aloud, looking around at his pack of loyal dogs. Each one of them was supposedly loyal to him, although he was not always sure that was true. One thing he did know was true, they were definitely loyal to the patch they all wore on their backs. Because of that patch, they followed the rules. The Gang rules told them he was their king, the Alpha, the leader, he was the top dog, and short of physically overthrowing him, they could not do a damn thing about it. He could take all comers; none of them frightened him in the least so he did not really care about whether their loyalty was genuine or not. What he did care about was his power. He had the authority to make decisions, to do as he pleased, and he did not want things to change. It would if his father got out of prison, he would go back to being second fiddle. His taste had lasted far too long for that to happen now. He had made his decision
“We don’t need to wait any longer… it’s time.”
Barking erupted spontaneously from within the gathered mongrels, the sound echoing off the bare concrete walls surrounding him with the chilling call of the animals they were.
In the room with no roof, off of what was left of the main living area, John Mouller failed to register the sick animal cry for blood echoing through the cavernous empty shell that served as his cell, and in the room next to that Jo Williamson heard the lustful call of an Alpha looking for his bitch. The drugs racing through her system making it hard to quantify the fear she should have felt.
Back in the main room Joseph Kingi junior stood in the middle of his pack, circling slowly, head up, eyes closed, arms held sideways, soaking up the fearful adulation like a rancid sponge.
And the dogs kept barking.
Wasted Lives, a Detective Mike Bridger novel Page 22
