23. Chapter 20 – Kellan
C onsidering I had only visited Sheldonville twice in the past year, twice in the last few weeks was considerable overkill.
Antonio’s word was still the law we followed. I had messaged my sociopathic brothers with the directive, and we were meeting at Bourbon his broad form bounced on the balls of his feet as he tossed a red stress ball in the air. His shark-like teeth gleamed at me when I walked through the door. He looked to be salivating at the thought of a turf war.
Jonah lazily smoked a joint on the other side of the office, languidly sprawled in a leather wingback. His glazed eyes stared through me when I nodded to him in greeting, as if the entire possibility of bloodshed bored him.
A third figure, a woman, took up the entire middle seat of the matching leather couch. Dressed head to toe in form-fitting black, her feet were firmly planted, as if ready for battle at any moment. I scrutinized her familiar silhouette with a bark to my brothers.
Carmen Williams; The Devil . She had lost none of her beauty since the last time I’d seen her, which was at least three years ago. Wavy, jet-black hair fell down her back, matching the bitter chocolate color of her eyes. She fit the runway model profile of Colombian heritage, with wider hips and thick legs – legs used to take down the harshest of men.
“I wasn’t aware you had company.”
The woman cracked a dangerous smile, full of dark promise and pain .
“Hello, Kellan.” The woman’s voice was completely void of the Spanish accent that I knew her to have. “It’s lovely to see you too.”
She had been attractive to me once. I had a relentless affinity for small blondes with big mouths these days. Carmen shifted her weight on the couch and slid to the other end. I sat down on the opposite side, assessing her.
“Where have you been hiding?”
Her smile melted into a condescending smirk. “On a job. I don’t just work for these boneheads.”
I frowned at her casual dismissal of my brothers. Apparently, a lot had changed between them in the years I had been out of their loop.
“You mean our father. These boneheads”—I nodded to the two men now watching our exchange with interest—“are soldiers, not commanders.”
Mical’s sneer could have seared through the skin of a lesser man. “I do not need to command armies to prove I have a big cock, brother.”
“If you had the biggest cock, you wouldn’t need me, no?” Carmen shot back before I could get the chance to reply. My brother’s sneer folded into a murderous scowl.
“Chupamela, cono.”
A knife whipped out from some hidden place on Carmen’s body and speared the ball in Mical’s outstretched hand.
“The next time will be your cock,” she hissed, her threat a self-assured promise.
Jonah’s eyes lit up with interest for the first time since I had walked in, and Mical slumped in the adjacent wingback, sulking.
Idiotas , the pair of them.
Ignoring our guest, I turned my attention to the imbeciles of the hour.
“ Rally your men. Have everyone on high alert. We don’t need this to be a bloody battle, but we need to get this nipped in the bud quickly.”
Mical’s toddler tantrum transformed into a giddy schoolgirl.
“Bloodshed is not an issue.”
“Yes, I know, Mical, you’re a big, bad killing machine,” I gritted out impatiently. “It’s been a slow progression, but with the Rodriguezes shifting alliances, we need to be ready for anything.”
I turned to Jonah, my slightly less chaotic brother. “I’m doing my best to keep the Bureau out of this, or else the Cartel will have the Feds on its ass too. We’ve been able to operate this long without consequences because we keep things under control. You know what Antonio will do if we don’t.”
The threat of our father taking our lives was far more terrifying than law enforcement trying to shut us down. Rampant bribery and several well-placed alliances all over this side of the country made us immune to most punishments, but to die by our father’s hands was to die by immeasurably painful torture.
Finally, I had my brothers’ undivided attention. We spent the better part of the next two hours reviewing personnel, business arrangements, and dividing territories across the state between our most trusted men.
Carmen’s role wasn’t clear in the discussion, but Mical informed me she was now working directly for Antonio, and had been invited to this meeting. This situation didn’t call for a trained hit woman, but what Antonio wanted, Antonio got.
I was exhausted by the time our chat came to a close, and eager to get away from the gruesome twosome and out of this town. I couldn’t have been more grateful for the interrupting phone call.
Abr uptly, I stood from the couch and nodded a goodbye as I scanned the number.
“I have to take this.”
I stepped out of the office and walked down the narrow staircase toward the side staff entrance.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Carlos.”
The male voice on the other end was perfunctorily polite, with the hint of an accent. German, maybe.
“Yes?”
“Thank you very much for your interest in The Six. We’ve reviewed your contract, but I’m afraid there is a complication with your … target.”
When filling out the request, I’d chosen Hillary as my mark. She was high profile, one of the richest people I could name, and someone I could monitor while The Six were conducting their business. I needed an easy win before this turf war amped up and the FBI caught wind of it.
An issue with the target was not something I’d predicted.
I attempted to keep the irritation out of my response. “What do you mean?”
“At the risk of indiscretion, I’m afraid that target is already … taken.”
My hackles rose at the thought of some other fuck trying to take down Hillary Lane. I made no attempt to keep the ire out of my voice this time.
“What do you mean, ‘taken’?”
Brief silence.
“We already have a contract for this person, and we don’t take on the same assignment twice, as I’m sure you can understand.”
Rising heat took hold of my muscles and my spine stiffened to steel.
“ You’re telling me that someone else has already selected Hillary Lane as their target?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, sir.”
“Well, cancel it.” I allowed the threatening tone to fully color my voice—the command I only used to strike fear into the hearts of demons. “I’ll pay double the fee. Today.”
Finally, a note of fear. “I’m sorry, sir. I—uh—we cannot do that. We take our commitments gravely seriously. I hope you will consider our services in the future.”
The line went dead before I could growl out a response.
Who the fuck had hired someone to con Hillary?
My plan to put this case in the bag, so I could move on with my more important worries went officially on the back burner as my protective instincts kicked in.
Hillary had refused to let me in; every time I tried to sneak under her defenses to offer a sliver of security, she had pushed me even further away. It was all I could offer her in this fucked up scenario that was my life, and she had stomped all over it with stiletto heels.
The only way in was to give her the help she’s asked for; hand her a list to carry out her own twisted vendetta. I could keep an eye on her and work the case at the same time.
It was the lesser, only slightly lesser, of two evils, and yet …
Fuck.
A harsh breath escaped my lips as I pushed open the wide glass entrance doors. The crisp fall air did nothing to calm the dull thrum of my heart.
My plate was growing heavier with each passing day, and soon the ceramic was going to break. Before it shattered into powdered shards, I needed to keep my brothers in check, manage a turf war, and stave off my father from handing me a despicable empire of sexual slavery.
And kill my lover’s lover.
Spectacular.
Four hours of tossing and turning in the makeshift bungalow I called my temporary home was enough to make me want to hurl a television through a window.
I could usually bury the guilt, compartmentalize the atrocities I’d seen and delivered to function throughout the day, but tonight, I couldn’t.
Killing men who’d earned their dark souls didn’t bother me. Watching the light leave their eyes and the blood seep from their skin was cathartic; one less piece of filth dirtying my shoes.
Aaron was no innocent man—as much as I could be called innocent, and my soul was likely the blackest of them all—but he didn’t deserve to die for his parents’ crimes.
After another hour of wide-eyed staring at the ceiling, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, armed with a cocksure plan but steadfast in my decision, consequences be damned.
Kellan: Antonio doesn’t agree to your terms.
Three minutes later.
Aaron: Am I to die?
Yes. But not at my will.
Kellan: I’ll give you a way out.
Aaron: Yes?
Kellan: Your building. Tuesday night. A fair fight.
Aaron: If I win?
Kellan: You go free.
Kellan: If you lose, you lose your life.
Aaron: Agreed.
Aaron: I will be there for 10:00 pm. I will be alone.
The terms were set; the deal was done .
Kellan: As will I.