Chapter Twenty-eight #2
He raised a slice to the tiny terror before throwing the lava temperature deliciousness back into his gullet.
His phone pinged an hour into dinner, while everyone was deciding on hot fudge sundaes or root beer floats.
With a quick glance, he knew it was Mouse telling him Pierre was at the fields.
Jessie smiled at Katarina before putting a kiss to her cheek.
“I gotta take a call, if y’all head out before I get back, just text me. I’ll meet you in VIP.”
Nik, like the bloodhound he was, immediately pivoted and spoke softly in Jessie’s ear. “You want me there?”
“Nah,” Jessie murmured back, leaving a kiss to Nik’s cheek as well. Whispering in Nik’s ear, “Gill’s supposed to be out, make sure if he shows his mug, he doesn’t do it again.”
Nik nodded. “Got it.”
He pushed out from the table, making sure to give Isabella a kiss on the head before heading for the side exit of the restaurant, the one that stepped out into the patio.
Titan stopped him, reaching behind Lailee who was busy talking with Elliot.
Beckoning his son with a curl of his finger, Titan murmured, “That phone call work or personal?”
“Work,” Jessie muttered back, and before his father could interject, “nothing big, just a conversation.”
Jessie grinned, trying to put his father at ease as he put his phone up to his ear, sauntering out to the patio.
After taking a few steps out through the busy iron tables with massive umbrellas shielding the deck from any sun during the day, he wove his way to the back right corner.
The gate clicked open and he disappeared into the back alley of the restaurant, using the heavy hedges as cover.
He disappeared from view of his family. Which normally would be an impossible feat for a broad-shouldered minotaur as striking as him.
He had the night lights and heavy crowds of people to his advantage.
Jessie slipped out closer to the fields, finding Mouse at the alley corner.
A tiny, teenage kattos with soft calico fluff, long whiskers, and a moon-shaped cut in their left ear.
They didn’t look at his face, only making a small sound out the side of their mouth to get his attention.
Then Mouse pointed from their side, where anyone across the street couldn’t see, to the other sidewalk.
Jessie smirked as he caught Pierre’s bald head, so shiny and sweaty, glinting under the massive spotlights of the stadium.
He stood just outside the gates, talking with someone at the ticket booth.
“Thanks,” Jessie murmured to Mouse, sliding over another handful of coin to the slender teen. “Now scurry home and get your homework done.”
“Fuck off,” Mouse snorted, slapping his leg with their whippy tail. “You’re not my dad, Bonesaw. You want me to stick around, just in case he tries to fight it?”
“Nah,” Jessie inhaled sharply through his nose before cracking his neck left…then right… then left again. His muscles hummed to life. “Pierre and I are just going to have a conversation.”
Jessie checked both ways, blending in with another massive group of people on their way to the game.
As he shadowed behind Pierre, he could count the steps between them.
His heart slowed to match the rhythm of his steps.
With every clop of his hooves, he let his mind scope out the area around the booth.
Pierre’s buddies, including Louis, were out of earshot and out of view due to the fast-moving sidewalk.
There were two Enforcers leaning against the fence down the path from the booth, one outside the fence, lackadaisically watching the moving crowd.
Everyone was talking over each other; he couldn’t hear anything but the ambient sound.
Then, pulling on that infamous Bonesaw smile, Jessie came up behind Pierre. Clamping a hand onto his shoulder, he twisted Pierre into his arm like he were throwing an arm over the shoulder of an old buddy. “Pierre! There you are! We’ve got the tickets on Rex’s phone. What are you doing?”
Pierre’s eyes went so wide, Jessie feared they might burst like a cracked watermain. His mouth flapped several times before Jessie laughed to the booth attendant. “Thanks! Have a great night.”
Jessie pivoted him away from the booth, letting the next person in line take their place. Pierre tried to plant his feet, only the furious kingpin whispered dangerously in his ear. “Make a scene and I feed you to the Enforcers.”
“You’ve got nothing,” Pierre snarled.
“Try me and find out, Simmone. You really want to put money on it when you’re literally defenseless right now?
” Jessie laughed, cocking his head to the side.
He clapped his hand down onto the nape of Pierre’s neck, scruffing him as falsely affectionate as he could manage.
“I could snap your twig fucking neck with a push of my thumb and you’d be trampled into dust before anyone even realized you were dead.
So, tell me, Simmone, you want to take a walk with me? Or am I asking Louis?”
Pierre’s face twisted up in fury. His cheeks turned hot pink, and Jessie could imagine steam floating up and out of his ears.
But he didn’t say another word as Jessie walked him out of the crowd onto the other end of the sidewalk.
Shoving Pierre down into one of the side streets, he pointed out past where the stadium lights reached, into the darker parts of the city where people left to go to the game.
They walked past a few corner stores, then a few novelty shops and sports gear, leading to a cul-de-sac that gave them a little privacy as Jessie made Pierre sit down on one of the benches near the public transport portal, knowing he could take two portals and be back by the fence in no time if need be.
Jessie crossed his arms over his chest as Pierre fidgeted.
After he’d let the little worm squirm a bit, he finally asked, “Who the fuck do you work for?”
“You think I want to die?” Pierre sneered.
“I think you might have a little bit of a death wish, getting into a fist fight with my girl in my backyard,” Jessie hummed with a nod.
“How was I supposed to know you were getting succubus pussy? How the fuck did you pull her, anyway? I know minotaur dick’s good, but it ain’t that good. She’s way out of your league, Bonesaw.”
“You think I don’t wonder that myself everyday?” Jessie laughed coyly before grabbing Pierre by the front of the shirt. The shiny headed scam artist yelped as Jessie hoisted him two feet off the park bench without hassle. “Now, your boss is interested in that car bomb prototype—”
Pierre squawked, rushing to put his hands on Jessie. With an eye roll and a hard won resist, Jessie didn’t bite the little worm. Instead, dropping Pierre onto the bench, where the fool whispered, “How’d you know about that?”
“I found Bobby’s bumper y’all left behind when you shook him down in his house,” Jessie grumbled, not exactly feeling happy about having to recount the incident. “Did ya have to stab him?”
“What! No! No-no-no, I didn’t shake—okay, so I shook him down a little, but I didn’t stab him. That was The Executive.”
“The who?” Jessie snorted. That’s such a ridiculous name.
Pierre grimaced, glancing left and right as if checking over his shoulders for bystanders.
However, outside of the hum of the portal, there wasn’t a sound in the neighborhood.
Those who weren’t out for the game were already in their beds.
The road was as quiet as quiet could be.
“The Executive, he’s the one paying the bills for this.
He’s some real smart, real rich asshole.
He entrapped me, man. I sold some guy a phony spell book and it was an undercover Enforcer.
Guy shows up during the arrest and tells the Enforcer something.
I’m given a choice, help him out or go down for illegal sale of magical items and for falsifying records and a whole slew of other things.
I tell him yes, of course, and now he owns my ass.
He’s got my crew doing weird jobs on the side while I’m running around making a mess of people for him. ”
“I see that…and who were you making a mess of tonight?” Jessie cocked his head, suddenly not feeling all that friendly with Pierre.
If you’re out here messing with people, threatening them for this Executive guy…
then who are you here at the game for? Because he absolutely would not say Elliot Bonesaw, that would be silly…
right. That would be dangerous to Pierre Simmone’s health, knowing who his brother is, who their father used to be.
Jessie’s face hardened to stone with every passing second that Pierre didn’t answer.
As the little worm squirmed down into the bench as if to get away from Jessie, the minotaur grew increasingly irate. “You’re. Fucking. Joking.”
“Look! I told him you didn’t have it. He didn’t believe me! He wanted me to try sending another message. He’s obsessed with you now, man!”
“Ah! Because that worked so well the last time you tried it! You think my girl is bad? Cassie ‘break a sleezeball’s face in with a camera and still put it on the ten o’clock news the same day’ Darling would chew your ass up and spit it out.
Are you joking? At least Katarina just wanted to beat your face in.
If your jackass boss wants to get himself blasted into the sunlight by an expose newspaper article, be my fucking guest…
but there are easier ways of showing your ass off to all of King’s Fall than picking a fight with Elliot or Cassie, I’ll tell you right now.
” Jessie snatched Pierre off that bench, hoisting him into the air again.
“Plus, you know, there’s the whole I will fucking kill you for that, part.
So, you’re going to tell me your boss’s name, then he and I are going to have a fucking chat. ”
Pierre yowled, “I don’t know!”
“Yes, you do!” Jessie throttled him in the air.
“I swear! I swear I don’t know!”
“Spill the beans, Simmone, or I’ll spill your brains on this concrete,” Jessie snarled, driving Pierre toward the ground.
“Wait! No! Stop, please, I’ll tell you!” Pierre squealed and Jessie hung him two inches from his nose in the concrete.
“Who. Is. Your. Boss?” Jessie sounded out every syllable with a dark growl from deep in his chest.
“I don’t know his actual name,” Pierre started, letting out a squeak as Jessie wrenched him back in order to drive him into the concrete. “I just know he works for the council!”
“What?” Jessie huffed, standing Pierre up again.
“He works for the council; he’s one of those fancy magical engineer people.
He’s the one who came up with the prototype but he likes to keep his hands clean.
It’s why he hired me. Look, I can’t tell you anymore.
He’s got me and the boys stalking your every move, okay.
I bet he even knows you’re here threatening me.
So, you gotta realize I can’t tell you more.
If I do…” And that’s when Jessie saw why Pierre was so scared.
What he meant when he said The Executive owns his ass.
Jessie watched in real time as Pierre’s eyes rolled back in his head, red angry lines of magic racing up the backside of his eyeballs.
The same red line raced up Pierre’s skin, angry and flashing like a stoplight.
Like the spell was etched into Pierre’s body—a magical contract.
It was sharp lines that bit into Pierre’s flesh, hissing and sizzling as it tore him into chunks.
Jessie jumped away just in time to avoid getting splashed as Pierre was ripped asunder.
A red cloud of smoke rose off the forger’s body as every piece of him turned to ash.
Well…that’s not good. Only one other person that Jessie knew made magical contracts like that, and Knox’s didn’t look like that. Which meant the man pulling the puppet strings…this Executive… was not one for loose lips or ends. Whoever this council member was, they didn’t play with snitches. Damn.