Chapter Ten #2
I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but I do enjoy returning to the streets on occasion…
Getting my hands dirty. Not that my hands aren’t regularly pretty filthy, but the thing about my current position is that I do very little of the heavy lifting, so to speak.
The day-to-day is handled by my vast network of lieutenants and henchman—at least, it’s supposed to be—which leaves me out of the pounding pavement, and skulls, I used to spend much of my time doing as a youngster. And in truth, sometimes I miss it.
The rush. The late-night driving around sketchy areas…
The fear in their eyes, and the blood on my hands.
So, when an opportunity presents itself to get back to my roots, you bet your sweet self I have no problem taking it.
It also keeps my people on their toes… Knowing I could show up at any moment.
This, however, is an odd situation, which becomes even stranger when we show up at the Ikea in Red Hook. It’s adjacent to a warehouse I just so happen to own—not a coincidence, but also not something my foot soldiers know about.
The dealers are basically worker bees. They work for me, but we really don’t associate much. I know everything I need to know about them, and they know nothing about me other than my name—not my real name, obviously—and that their prime objective in life should be not pissing me off.
The warehouse is where pick-ups happen on occasion, but these two peons, who are apparently missing in action, work exclusively in Staten Island and parts of Jersey. What they’re doing here in the first place is a mystery—well, not really. I’m sure I can guess.
It’s also peculiar that they’re suddenly not answering their phones, or showing any activity. Though again, if I were to guess what happened…
Stepping out of the car, I glance around.
The parking lot is quiet, because it’s almost midnight.
I place a call to Kent—my personal security.
He’s pretty much my right-hand man. Technically lower on the food chain than people like Max and Mateo, simply because he started as my driver.
And yet he gives me a hell of a lot less grief than those other knuckleheads.
He also happens to be an encyclopedia of knowledge on every able body who works in our organization. Either the guy has an eidetic memory, or he’s really good at memorization. Regardless, it’s impressive as hell.
These are the types of skills I need in running my new island compound.
“Sir,” Kent answers, gruffly—as usual.
It pleases me that he’s never shown so much as a teaspoon of emotion.
“What kind of car does Jose drive?” I ask.
“Jose from Newark? Or Jose the guy who capped Manny in Boca Raton that time?”
My lips curve. See what I mean?
“Newark.”
“A black BMW M3,” he says, without a moment’s hesitation. “2011. Black rims with red calipers.”
Tilting my face right, I find the exact car he’s describing, parked across the way, at the entrance of the warehouse drive.
My smile grows. “Thank you, carino.”
Hanging up, I open the door of the SUV and grab my .45, tucking it into my belt behind my back. My phone is popping off with response texts and calls, so I turn the Do Not Disturb on. Make ‘em sweat it out for a bit.
As I set off walking, my driver rolls his window down.
“Nice night for a stroll,” I tell him with a wink.
He nods. No further instruction needed.
I’ve been at this a while, and because of that, my process is set up in such a way that requires very little micromanaging.
For the most part, everyone knows their place, and they fully understand the plans in place for what we do.
So me wandering alone toward the scene of something potentially shady is nothing new, or surprising.
I’m never alone. If it looks that way, then my security is doing its job.
Walking down the sparsely lit gravel road that connects the Ikea parking lot to the delivery entrance of my warehouse, however, I am considering how there are never any sure things in this business.
Nothing is foolproof, because there are fools all around us, and unfortunately, they’re usually skilled in their ability to fuck shit up.
Prime example: whatever is going on with the Tweedledee and Tweedledum dealers. I have some guesses, and when I pass Jose’s BMW, and spot the butt of his pistol under the seat through the window, I’m feeling even more confident as to what I’m about to find.
Jose and his pal, dead. From something foolish they decided to do, because they’re fools, and even the best business isn’t impervious to it.
And not that I care to avenge the deaths of two meaningless insects in my operation, but I would like to find out what happened so I can ensure it doesn’t happen again. Or that it isn’t part of a bigger problem.
Glancing around, the place is dead. Apropos of nothing, this establishment is every bit as dark, quiet, and generally unscrupulous as it’s intended to be.
Yet as I approach the building, I make out a voice. Only one. Unfamiliar, and belonging to someone just out of view.
“She was terrified… the night that you raped her…”
It’s deep, gruff, and trembling with contained wrath.
“But you didn’t care…”
Inching closer, I peer around the corner, my pulse increasing from a steady thump to a hearty jog.
“You raped her, viciously, like the sick animal you are…” The words are hissed by a man I’ve never seen before. A large one. An angry one. “And now I’m going to put you down.”
The stranger cocks his arm back. Jose gurgles something unintelligible, raising his hands for protection, though it’s clearly no use. His face is already almost unrecognizable.
And when the man ignores his choking plea and swings… And swings… and swings…
Well, it only becomes more difficult to recognize at that point.
Snarling and growling and gasping, the man mashes his fist into Jose’s face, so many times that it’s barely even a face anymore, let alone one belonging to an alive person. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, beating my employee’s corpse into a literal pulp with his bare hands.
And I’m just… staring. Transfixed.
The breathless grunts, cracking bones and beating of dead flesh is a mesmerizing orchestra of sound. My eyes are wide open, awed gaze magnetized to this unhinged, deadly… stunning creature.
I bite my lip. Wow…
Look at that.
I don’t know that I’ve ever been so captivated by a sight. It feels like my heart is going to snap my ribs.
Swallowing down a mouthful of saliva, I force myself to blink hard. But it’s difficult. I’m purely hypnotized by the way this stranger has just unleashed the beast within himself…
My head tilts.
Hm…
Minutes pass while I watch the man go from snarling to sniffling. He rises to his feet, standing over the lifeless body whose head is no more, visibly shaking.
Standing reveals his size. He’s… big. Oh so big. Maybe six-four, well over two hundred pounds of sheer vitality. Brawny, overflowing with strength and power. A rabid animal, crafted of muscle and ink and steel.
But even the toughest person succumbs to the nausea that hits when the spell is broken, and the adrenaline wears off. It reminds me of the first time I killed someone with my bare hands.
Been there, champ.
The man is now sniveling, mumbling nonsense. He throws up on the ground beside where he’s wobbling, and I have to bite back a grin, reminding myself that this person just murdered one of my dealers in cold blood.
My eyes shift. Oh, shit… Two of my dealers.
He is clearly dangerous, and unstable, and God, why am I swooning…?
But come on. That is just too cute… The way he’s trying to wipe a spot of blood off of his shirt that’s so soaked in viscera, it looks like two humans just exploded right in front of him.
Composing myself, I decide to make myself known, stepping out from around the corner.
Mainly, of course, because I need to confront this man who just killed people who work for me.
Such things simply cannot go unpunished, no matter how little I care about the deceased, or the fact that I was going to kill them myself. Or how… fascinating I find the culprit.
He doesn’t even notice me at first. He’s completely out of it. Shell-shocked and sputtering.
“Well, then…” At the sound of my voice, he flinches and turns, though he still seems to be in slow motion. I move in closer. “That’s a dead ass man if I’ve ever seen one.”
His eyes are deep blue like my favorite oceans, glassy and red-rimmed as they meet mine. I can see in them the moment reality comes crashing down on him. A waterfall of realization dawning, reminding him that this isn’t a dream, or a nightmare. He did, in fact just murder two people.
And now, here’s a witness.
Stumbling backward, he crashes onto his ass, gaping up at me from the ground. I simply watch him down there, already loving the way it feels to tower over him. Chills rush through me, and I suck in a secret breath.
Is it possible to receive such a perfectly wicked gift from the universe?
This feels… too perfect.
“Who are you…?” He chokes out words, the smoothest gravel I’ve ever heard. “A cop?”
I have to snicker at that. “If I were a cop, I’m sure I’d have you in handcuffs. And I’m not going to do that…” My insides are thrumming. “Not yet, anyway.”
He looks confused. And this kid just beat two vatos from the streets to death??
My lips quirk subtly, gaze dipping over him, taking him in some more. “What’s your name?”
Zeal is radiating throughout my body. I didn’t expect this at all… But I can’t stop thinking back to the meeting with my lawyer. My current predicament.
My brand new island. And that desperate need I have…
The position that needs to be filled.
The man shakes his head, just gawking. Still stunned and likely apprehensive. I don’t blame him… I would be incredibly wary of me.
“You’re obviously very capable,” I tell him, coveting him more and more with each second I stand over him like this. I’ve already decided that he’s mine. There’s no going back now. “Come with me.”