“That’s going to be your ink, man?” Tyler asks, eyeing the outline. “It’s fucking sweet.”
“It’s fucking incriminating is what it is,” Dom says, refusing to back down. Tyler and Sean look over to me with drawn brows as I address my brother.
“This is not up for debate.”
Dom shakes his head adamantly. “No way, brother, we’re in this together.”
Sighing, I lift my chin to the two guys running ink on Sean and Tyler, and the buzzing stops just before they clear the room to walk out front. When they both have lit cigarettes in hand and are safely on the other side of the door, Sean moves from his chair and lights one of his own, readying himself to get between us if need be. “All right, what the fuck is going on?”
Dom’s dark gaze narrows on me as he lifts his chin. “I believe our brother is trying to deceive us with this grand gesture.”
“It’s not deception,” I grab the bottle from Tyler that we uncorked an hour ago when I announced our plans. “This is a celebration, little brother,” I tip the lip of it toward him, “and you’re ruining it.”
“Bullshit,” he snaps, anger seeping out of him. “This is your way of ensuring you’re the one who pays the bill.”
“It’s done.” I cut my hand through the air. “End of.”
“Not fucking end of,” Dom shakes his head as Tyler glances back at the draft of my tattoo in an attempt to figure it out. It doesn’t take long. “No, man, this is bullshit. If one goes down, we all go down.”
Sean’s posture bows when he too gathers the truth of what’s happening and pins me with the same accusatory eyes. “What the fuck, man?”
“You designed it this way,” Dom growls. “All of it was intentional.”
Wordless, I take another sip from the bottle.
“Whose name did you put the bar in today?” He prompts, refusing to let it go.
“Mine,” Sean speaks up, his tone just as accusing, “he called me in to sign the paperwork, and Tyler now owns the land for our spot.”
“Got the deed in the mail last week,” Tyler adds.
Dom pulls it all together in a matter of seconds. “You’re using Exodus as the front, and you’re putting all the legit businesses in our name in case you get cuffed.”
“All good business decisions,” I argue, “If anything happens to me—”
“Fuck no,” he jerks the outline of my tattoo from where it hangs. “This might as well be a target on your fucking back. If there’s ever an investigation, all arrows will point to you.”
“Which makes you the sitting fucking duck if we dip in the wrong bag and draw heat,” Tyler adds.
“Which also means you’ll be the one doing the most time for racketeering,” Sean gathers, clear fury in his tone. “That’s why you wouldn’t let us in on Exodus.”
Tyler speaks up next. “No way, brother, no fucking way, Tobias. We make these decisions together.”
“Except this one he kept us out of because he knew we would never agree,” Sean adds, his fury apparent.
“It’s done,” I snap. “So, there’s no point in arguing.”
“Fuck that. You don’t get to martyr yourself.” Dom refutes, his tone lethal. He hates not being in the know, but mostly, he hates that he didn’t figure it out sooner. “If we fuck up, we go down together,” he declares adamantly.
“That’s not the way we designed this, and you know it,” I remind him. “And you need to remember that we have other people’s livelihoods depending on us.” I look over at my brother. “I haven’t forgotten what hungry feels like, have you?” My argument stuns him silent, and I dig in, intent on making my point. “We have to be smart about this, things are about to kick up, and we need to be prepared for anything.”