Chapter 44
U nknown
Slumped in the corner of the concrete-block basement, I played dead. I was pretty close to that state anyway, so keeping my eyes as slits and my breathing slow was no effort.
For weeks, I’d been in the Four Milers’ brothel, down in the rabbit-warren basement in a storeroom next to the boiler house. Beaten to within an inch of my life as Bronson’s plaything, allowed to eat, heal, rest, then fucked up all over again.
Remembering the details was becoming harder, though.
My mind moved sluggishly, and different parts of my ruined body throbbed.
During my first beatdown, my leg had been shattered and my skull cracked. A few ribs, too, though they troubled me less. It was the pounding in my head that messed me up. My brain swollen, probably, and my thoughts muddied.
I’d lost track of time.
Red and his gang had lost track of me. Or didn’t care that I festered in a corner with discarded sacks and broken furniture.
In the centre of the dank, semi-underground room, the drug lord sat tall behind a desk, holding court over his meeting and oozing cruel power. Overhead, a single lamp hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly so the edge of the light cut over the group around him, then fell away.
Only minutes ago, the space had filled with people, mostly men, some I recognised, some I didn’t, then the Four Milers’ boss himself had strode in, locking the door behind him. In a muscle shirt, and with his dark beard trimmed close to his chin, he owned the room. Awed looks followed him.
He was a piece of shit who’d earned that reputation to be feared. Dangerous, cold, and calculating. Not stupid, though. He’d ordered out anyone without a vested interest, meaning no witnesses, but that also meant that whoever remained would be bound to him after.
Or dead.
I was in the latter category.
Trouble was, I didn’t have too many fucks to give at this point. Unlike remembering the danger ahead of me and the people around, I couldn’t recall my name, let alone any reasons I had for living. At least I didn’t feel any pain. My body was giving up. Death would be a relief.
“Next,” Red snarled.
A scrappy, rodent-faced guy who’d just pled his case scuttled back, the circle of people swallowing him.
An older man untangled his arm from the waist of a glamorous woman, Sydney , my mind supplied. She used to be a dancer someplace. Maybe where I worked?
My consciousness ebbed, only returning when the man settled into his story.
“My reputation precedes me, I’m sure, but it’s Adam Walker for those of you who aren’t in the loop.” He stuck his thumbs in his beltloops and grinned.
Red sighed. “Get on with it, Walker.”
Adam tipped him a nod of acknowledgement, as if they were equals. He was drunk, I guessed, his eyes reddened.
“This is going to disappoint the rest of you, but I’m a shoo-in for Bronson’s job. It’s already mine, and the reason for that, Red, my boy, is that I’m an asset to you. You can’t do better than this.”
Those thumbs came up to point at him.
Jesus fuck, the confidence of alcohol-soaked fools. Red was going to shred him.
The boss tilted his head, no hint of amusement in his stare. “Call me boy again and I’ll slice your withered balls off and give them to your girl as earrings. State your case or step down.”
Adam’s smile dropped. “That job is rightly mine. I’m the same age as Bronson, but not fucked up on smack. I’m what you need.”
Red levelled his gaze. “Next.”
A meathead security guy stepped in front of Adam who turned purple.
“No, you haven’t heard me out.”
Another contender moved forward. “I want to?—”
Adam took a swipe at him and shoved him back, then rounded the guard to slam his hands down on Red’s desk. “You’ll respect me. I’ve earned this.”
Red didn’t flinch. “How?”
“I… I killed the women in Deadwater. I did it to show you what I’m capable of.”
Silence fell across the room.
Red held up a finger to stall the guard who’d moved directly behind Adam. “Explain.”
“Those girls who had their throats slit, it was me.”
Whispers started. Sydney shifted in her place, her discomfort plain. I’d heard rumours of murders, but the information wouldn’t stay still in my head long enough for me to cling to it.
Red worked his jaw. “You, whose daughter is shacked up with Daniels, killed and left bodies outside his building. By all means, give us the details. Be precise.”
Adam nodded, his jowls wobbling. “The first was the prossie on the steps. She sold sex across the road from my house. It pissed me off.”
“So you just…?” Red lazily mimed cutting his throat.
Adam eagerly agreed. “Yeah, and the second, that American bitch, was walking home alone, so fair game. I knew it would impress you, that’s it.”
The man who’d stepped up to take Adam’s place interrupted with a sound of disgust. “Liar. You’re stealing my thunder.”
Red gave a low chuckle. “You’re claiming the kills as well?”
The second guy, who could’ve passed for a suburban dad with a neat haircut and polished shoes, jerked his head frantically. “I did it to get this job.”
Adam snorted in derision, twisting back to eyeball his girl. “Bullshit. The timelines don’t match up. Bronson’s job is only on the table because Daniels’ crew took him out. You’re full of it.”
Red lifted his chin at the newcomer. “Agreed. Step the fuck down.”
Suburban Dad swore but slunk away, outside of the line of the light and towards the door.
Red watched him then cut his gaze to his guard.
The huge guy didn’t pursue him. Instead, he reached for the back of his jacket, pulling a gun. People gasped and shifted away in a rapid huddle.
The guard handed the weapon to Red who raised it lazily as Suburban Dad reached for the lock. He didn’t see his end coming. An explosion rang out, deafening me and painting the door crimson.
The body slumped. Fearful silence held the room with all eyes on Red. He handed the gun back to the guard and returned his gaze to Adam.
“Unless anyone else here wants to claim the glory, or walk out without my permission, you were saying?”
Adam swallowed. No one else made a peep.
He lifted a shaking hand, ticking off his fingers like he was working through a mental list. “I took out the next two as warnings to Arran and his crew. The girl who lived next door to the mayor’s place. Because Shade is fucking the mayor’s daughter. Then Alisha was a shot closer to home. My future son-in-law deserved it because you know what he did for me? Jack shit. That’s right. No job, no money. Fuck him.”
My hearing faded. Alisha? Alisha was dead?
My heart ached.
It couldn’t be. She was so alive. A cornerstone of the skeleton crew, even if she preferred the sidelines. Once, I’d hoped we could be something to each other, even just friends. She was dead? Ah fuck.
Adrenaline coursed through my broken body.
If Red didn’t kill Adam, I would.
Mutters grew in the crowd, and the glances towards Walker shifted to more admiring than scornful.
A slight, dark-haired woman pushed through the group. Under the bright light, she slanted a look of disdain at Adam and centred on Red. “I know exactly who the Deadwater killer is, and it’s none of these nobodies.”
She was familiar, but her name evaded me.
“Moniqua,” Red supplied for me. “Interesting choice of evening’s entertainment for a girl like you. Better suited to working on your back upstairs.”
She gritted her teeth but held her ground. “Like I said, I know who the killer is. I know that they took the prostitute just because she was there when they were angry, and the mouthy American because she was trashing the city’s reputation. The house-sitter lost her life because they were in a rage that they couldn’t get to the intended target, and Alisha was just to piss off Daniels. As proof that I’m good to my word and know what I’m talking about, I bring collateral.”
“Which is?”
Something flashed in her eyes. “My cousin once told me that you vowed to take all of Daniels’ women. Sydney is here. I’ll work for you, so you’ll have me. I’ll bring one of his barmaids, too. But there’s someone more important. Someone I think you’ll be happy to see.”
She gestured at a man in the crowd who slid off a beanie.
Lonnie, my mind supplied. Fuck. He was skeleton crew.
Lonnie went to the door. “Need to go into the cupboard outside. No funny business.”
The guard waited on Red’s word.
The gang boss’s eyes gleamed in interest, and he inclined his head. “The upstairs door is still bolted. You’ve got thirty seconds to impress me, or my pile of bodies is going to get bigger.”
The guard dragged the dead man out of the way, and Lonnie disappeared from sight, emerging moments later with a hooded body in his arms.
A scent pricked my nose. Smoke? What the hell was burning? If anyone else noticed, they didn’t show it.
Lonnie placed the body at Moniqua’s feet.
Moniqua untied the cloth covering its head then tugged it free. At my slumped angle, I couldn’t see the reveal.
Gasps came from around the circle.
Moniqua grinned with a savagery to rival Red’s. “I bring you Arran Daniels’ little sister, Cassie.”
Horror struck me. I knew her. We’d met several times. She wasn’t really Arran’s sister, but he cared about her just the same.
The woman gripping an unconscious Cassie by the hair continued, “I gift her to you on the condition you hear me out. If you like what I tell you, then give me the role of second-in-command of the Four Milers. I’m smarter and more deadly than any of these pieces of shit. I won’t let you down when that job is mine.”
Red stood, his fingers braced on his desk and his focus solely on the unconscious woman. He opened his mouth.
An explosion rang out. A wall collapsed inwards, a deadly slide of breezeblocks crumpling onto Red. The ceiling fell in a clatter of plaster, and the lights went out, plunging us all into darkness.