Chapter 18. #2
“Good girl. Kriston has promise. And I like the new guy. You should consider treating him with these lips.” My smile is wicked as I leave her to her grieving on the floor and when I step out of the room, I can't help but feel like a brand-new man.
I duck from Baal’s incoming fist and step out of his reach, blinking with confusion, “What?”
“What?!” He repeats after me with a roar. “You came here to fuck with my job, didn't you?”
“You said I could come along.”
“I knew I should've told you no,” he snarls. “You had that fucking look in your eyes. Baachan told me,” He smacks himself in the head a few times, “not to fuck with you when you have that goddamn look in your eyes.”
“Baalito. You told me the guy had to go, and the girl taught a lesson.” I raise my hands in the air in a ‘what do you want from me’ gesture. “I did both.”
“You’re a fucking piece of shit is what you are. Now I gotta go in there and try to keep her on our payroll.” He’s so infuriated he’s switched to Spanish purely by habit.
“I listed all her loved ones by name,” I reply with a smirk. “I think she gets it.”
“This is why I can’t take you anywhere, you’re just—” Baalito’s curses become incomprehensible and I feel even better knowing we get to hang out again like old times.
“You’re going to give yourself heart problems, Baalito.” I pat his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. “Why don’t we go for chinese? Your men can finish up here, right?”
“You’re such a bone-headed, crazy, dipshit son of a—”
Really, there’s no talking to him when he’s like this.
“Yeah, yeah.” I pull out the phone buzzing in my pocket and block out Baal’s voice to answer the call.
“We found where he lives.” Xavier’s voice is smooth in my ears.
Finally. Two days running him through the systems and we finally found him, the shadow lurking in the photo of the victims.
“We’ll postpone the rendezvous later,” Xavier says. “You and Christian are the closest so go scope it out.”
I scowl, “What?”
“I know you can get in and out easily.”
I can, but a slap-dash mission like this? I want to tell him to get it together… but I don’t. I bite my tongue and look up at the ceiling, “How much time do we have?”
“He’s heading out to a book convention out of state in the afternoon. He won’t be back until tomorrow.”
I close my eyes with new exasperation. I dislike how he’s done this. Not to mention how he’s giving me orders when he’s one of my men…
But this was Xavier’s price. When it comes to the Harvester—
I won’t get in his way.
He’ll lead the mission to cut him down.
And he’ll have full utilization of all my assets.
Five years and this is the closest I’ve ever gotten to finally giving him the Harvester’s head.
“Fine,” I reply genuinely and open my eyes. “I know you’re hungry for blood, Xavier, but you’ll need to be a lot more cunning when hunting your food. Do better. Send me the location.”
I hang up and I can only hope my words get through to him.
When people meet my team, they only see my methods. They call me crazy.
Only a handful have realized the truth.
That each of my members possesses their own voracious madness.
By the time I arrive at the location, Xavier has sent all the digital files on our shadow to my phone.
Philip Warren. Single. South Asian. A self-employed software engineer who acts as a consultant for some major companies across the state.
One would think he’d be able to afford a more luxurious home with the size of his CV, but the house staring at me now tells me he’s not interested in living lavishly or drawing attention to himself.
An average guy in an average neighbourhood with an average home.
How convenient.
But if this is our guy, then what does he do with the money he makes… and the money his backer gives him?
The thought is unsettling, but I’m jumping too far too quickly. We only have speculation now. We need evidence.
Baal wouldn’t even lend me his driver, the selfish bastard, so I’d had to call Wesley and wait for him to get through afternoon traffic, then sit through another forty-five minutes of driving before getting here.
The neighbourhood is small and clean, with apartment complexes and houses sitting on either side of the main road. Cars are parked everywhere on the curb, so Wesley does the same and pulls over with the rest of them, two houses away, while I attempt to call Christian on his cell.
The phone rings eight painfully slow times before going to voicemail and I blink.
I try again… and there’s another six rings of me drumming my finger on my knee before it goes to voicemail again.
I would love to see my own emotions to determine if I’m irritated or anxious, but whichever the case, a tense feeling is creeping into my muscles.
Xavier would’ve told him to meet me here.
How far out was he? Who brought him?
My knee begins to bounce as I call his number again for the third time.
The sound of the ring goes on forever.
And ever.
Seven times.
Eight times.
Did he go in without me?
My knee immediately stops bouncing.
Nine.
Ten.
Eleven.
The chaos in my chest reaches a crescendo in my ears. I pull my gun out of the duffle at my feet and tuck it into my pants quickly before reaching for the door handle, “Wesley—”
The call connects and my body stiffens. “Christian, where are you?” My voice is unfamiliar in my ears. Insistent. Anxious.
There’s a single beat of silence before his voice breaks through the earpiece, “I’m inside.”
Annoyance immediately surges through my core, “How the fuck—”
“I opened a window.”
“Are you in danger?” I bark.
“What? No.” I can already see his brow furrowing, “I broke in.”
“You should’ve waited for me!” Tu loco idiota— “Which window did you go through?”
“Backyard. Above the kitchen sink.”
“Don’t fucking move without me, understand?”
There’s a silence on the line and for a moment I think he’s actually going to ignore me until his voice sounds through the phone, “Fine.”
I think my men are seriously forgetting the chain of command here.
I hang up the call with more curses rolling off my tongue in Spanish, before finally turning to Wesley, “Wesley. Stay. We’ll be out quickly.”
“Woof woof,” Wesley replies with a dismissive wave and I hope he can feel the divine retribution in my glare.
Note to self: repair chain of command as soon as possible.
Philip’s place is caramel-painted, with a red statement door, two storeys and a fence closing off his yard and the back of his property. The garage is closed and all the windows are shut tightly. It’s clear to anyone looking in that he’s out of town.
I take a quick look around before walking up to the wooden fence next to the garage and vaulting my body over it, landing on the other side without a sound.
At this time of day, the surrounding neighbours are at their offices in the city. It was professional of Xavier at least, to check on their whereabouts beforehand and make sure there were no witnesses to our break-in.
Thankfully, Philip doesn't fancy pets, so the backyard is filled with basic things—a toolshed, a barbecue set, a glass table with two chairs—there’s nothing out of the ordinary just yet.
The window leading to the kitchen is wide open—one of three fancy windowpanes jutting out just for me—and a crazed smile slips onto my face.
What are the chances Philip left this one window open, when the rest of the house was shut so tightly?
How exactly did you get in, estrellito?
I grip the window’s ledge to pull myself up into the space and carefully manoeuvre my body over the sink to place my feet on the floor.
Christian is crouching in the doorway that leads to the hall with a bored expression and he glances at me only once before coming to his feet, “Okay. Lead the way.”
I grab him by the collar to press him against the doorway and his eyes widen when he sees the fierce expression on my face, “If you ever do something reckless like this again, I’ll shoot you on sight.”
Irritation flares in his eyes as he knocks my hand away, “I’ve been doing this for just as long as you, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“That doesn’t mean you act out on your own,” I growl. “You wait for me and if I don’t show up you take your ass back home.”
His glare becomes piercing, “I’m not a child, Reuben.” The warning in his low voice is so intense it sends a zip of pleasure to my dick.
Fuck, talk to me like that more. I can treat you like an adult if you want me to—
I pull my gaze up to the ceiling, because damn it, I just got my dick sucked. I force myself to focus, pulling my gun from my waist to push the barrel into his neck in one swift movement.
“You wait. For me.”
He tenses beneath me, new indignation seeping into his energy, but when I press the barrel deeper into his throat, the anger in his eyes only turns me on more.
What I wouldn’t give to fuck you with that look in your eyes.
His energy begins to transform into something else, but before I can make it out, he’s slapping the gun and turning away quickly, “Okay! Fuck, don’t point that thing at me.”
Can’t promise that. That was a different kind of sexy.
“I'll wait next time. Let’s not waste any more time.” He steps into the hallway with his back turned, “Xavier will be expecting an update soon.”
That’s true.
The living room, kitchen and library are on the bottom floor along with a storage space and half- half-bathroom beneath the stairs leading to the top floor.
The place is… boring, to say the least. The walls are painted white with blue trimmings and there isn’t a thing out of place.
The books in the library are arranged by genre then alphabetical order, the china sets are sealed away as if they’ve gone untouched for generations, and even the office upstairs is minimalist, with rows and rows of perfectly stacked books on IT, psychology, biology—
This kind of house is a pain to break into.