Shanice Wilson, born and raised in Harlem, moves to Atlanta for her new job. The company sets her up in a lovely cul-de-sac in an almost deserted part of the suburbs.
Nate Dylan is the president of the Dead-Eye Angels MC. He rides with his buddies...
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Song: Bad Things - Jace Everett
Children play hopscotch in the park, their laughter ringing through the crisp air, blissfully ignorant of the impending storm unfurling down the street. My phone slides into my palm, tapping with calculated purpose to a number I've dialed often in the past year.
The voice on the other end picks up, a deep southern drawl cutting through the air.
Unknown B: "Figured you'd ring me up. You've done some slick work. I'm genuinely impressed."
Unknown A: "Well, I did say my plan would work."
Unknown B: "Sure did. Now the Dead-Eye Angels are public enemy numero uno."
Unknown A: "Exactly. Let the city tear them apart. It's poetic. Let them do the dirty work."
Unknown B: A hearty laugh booms through the line. "Pinning those missing girls on Bryan and the Dead-Eyes? Next-level stuff."
Unknown A: "Yeah, playing on Bryan's Ataxia diagnosis did wonders. He went from Nate's right-hand man to his arch-nemesis. And snagging those girls? Piece of cake." Satisfaction curls my lips as I recall how effortlessly a few teenagers fell into my plan.
Unknown B: "And that neighbor girl moving in at just the right time..."
Unknown A: "Yes, she unknowingly moved things along."
Unknown B: Another chuckle. "Who'd have guessed Nate would fall for a black girl."
Unknown A: "Life's full of surprises. Anyway, now it's down to Kade and Maddox, and then Nate's all yours."
Unknown B: "That piece of shit will regret the day he snagged my spot as President of the Dead-Eye Angels."
Unknown A: "Yes, yes, he will."
Unknown B: "And what do you have planned next?"
Our conversation hangs in the air, the mix of innocent laughter in the background and our plans making for one messed-up symphony. It's the calm before the storm. Something big's coming, and it ain't gonna be pretty — for the Dead-Eye Angels, that is.
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