Devils Cut

Chapter 10

Corvus King

My boots thudded against the wooden floor as I made my way down the narrow hall, flipping switches and illuminating the path ahead. The familiar scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke filled my nostrils, a comforting reminder of where I belonged. It wasn”t long before I reached the door labelled ”Office” at the right of the corridor.

”Blah,” I grumbled, making my way inside. I slumped down into the worn leather chair behind the desk.

”Let”s get this shit over with,” I sighed, flipping open the laptop and grabbing the first unopened envelope from the stack on my desk. One by one, I tore through the papers, my focus solely on the task at hand. Bills, invoices, and notes from meetings with other MCs.

”Jesus Christ,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose.

The shrill ring of my phone shattered my pity party of one. I fumbled for it on the cluttered desk, squinting at the screen as Trey”s name flashed across it.

”Talk to me,” I growled, already feeling the tension coil in my gut.

”Corvus, we got a problem with that shipment we did the other day. It never made it to its destination,” Trey”s voice came through tense and uneasy.

”Fuck,” I muttered. ”What”s that got to do with us? We handed it off to the buyer, they paid up, and we walked away. Whatever shit happened after ain”t our problem.”

”Normally, I”d agree, brother,” he replied, his voice low and serious. ”But these were headed to New York, to the Russian Mafia. They”re tracking ”em back, hand by hand, tryna find out who fucked ”em over.”

”Son of a bitch,” I spat, slamming my fist down on the desk. The impact sent a ripple through the scattered papers and envelopes. Betrayal wasn”t something I took lightly. ”Set up a meeting with those Russian fuckers,” I told Trey, my voice low and determined. ”I wanna nip this shit in the bud before it gets out of hand.”

”You sure about that, Corvus?” Trey asked cautiously.

”Maybe we could cut out the middle man,” I replied, grinding my teeth together. ”This might be our chance to make a move. Get it done.”

”Alright, I”m on it,” Trey agreed, then hung up.

I tossed my phone onto the cluttered desk, I found my mind wandering to Tempest again. Her fiery eyes, Her filthy mouth– every goddamn thing about her drove me wild.

”Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. Why did I care so much about her? She was just another girl, right? But deep down, I knew that wasn”t true. There was something about her that made me want to wrap her up in my arms and shield her from the world.

”Get your shit together, Corvus,” I scolded myself, shaking my head.

But even as I tried to refocus my thoughts on the task at hand, I couldn”t shake her from my mind.

”Damn it,” I whispered, giving in to the urge. I grabbed my phone and dialled the number for the closest real estate agent in town. Sarah, an ex-club whore who had turned her life around, worked there. I knew she might have some information on Tempest”s new place.

”Hello, Greenfield Real Estate this is Sarah speaking,” her voice came through the line, sounding surprisingly cheerful.

”Hey, Sarah, it”s Corvus,” I replied, trying to sound casual but feeling a strange tightness in my chest. ”How are you? How”s that little family of yours?”

”Corvus?” She paused, clearly surprised by my call. ”I”m doing good, thanks. My husband and our son are great. What can I do for you?”

”Look, I just need a favour.” I hesitated before continuing. ”You might have sold a house recently? To a girl named Tempest? I heard she bought a house somewhere in town. Can you find out which one it is?”

”Corvus, you know I can”t just give out that information,” she scolded me, but I could hear the concern in her voice. She knew the kind of life I led, and she didn”t want any part of it anymore.

”Come on, Sarah. One last time. For old times” sake.”

”Fine,” she sighed heavily, relenting. ”But this is the last time, Corvus. And don”t call me again.”

”Deal,” I agreed immediately, relieved.

”Alright. It”s a small, rundown three-bedroom place on the outskirts of town. She paid $99,000 cash for it,” she informed me quickly, eager to end the conversation.

”Thanks, Sarah,” I said sincerely, grateful for her help despite the circumstances.

”Goodbye, Corvus,” she replied, her voice firm, and then hung up.

I stared at the phone in my hand, my thoughts racing. A small, rundown house on the outskirts of town – not exactly a safe haven for an eighteen-year-old girl like Tempest. How the fuck did she manage to pay that much in cash? And why the hell was I so worried about her? How the fuck did an eighteen-year-old who”d been living in her car pull that off?

”Jesus Christ,” I muttered, rubbing my face with both hands. The more I found out about Tempest, the more questions I had. And the more I couldn”t shake this goddamn feeling that I needed to protect her. It was like an itch I couldn”t reach, driving me fucking insane.

”Alright, let”s see what you”re hiding, girl,” I said to myself, flicking open my laptop and pulling up a search engine. Feeling like some kind of creepy stalker, I typed in her name, ”Tempest Miller” into the search bar.

”Come on, come on,” I whispered impatiently, waiting for the results to load. But when they did, my heart sank. No hits. No social media accounts, no news articles, nothing. It was like she didn”t exist. Frustration and curiosity gnawed at me.

”Who are you, Tempest?” I murmured, the frustration building inside me. It was rare to meet someone so completely off the grid, especially in today”s world where everyone”s dirty laundry was hung out to dry on the internet.