Shadow
I entered the Carter family home with Reaper, Maniac, Tinker, and Spawn.
Tinker was there in his capacity as club treasurer and Spawn as our secretary, on the surface, but more importantly, as our hacker.
He was going to be hacking into their devices and systems while sitting there, pretending to take notes during the meeting.
The house we had seen but never entered was modest on the outside.
Inside, it was slightly grander, but still not indicative of a family making the kind of cash they were supposedly raking in.
Oliver, Rome, and Jace lived there. Jock was present, but he lived nearby with his daughter, Whitney.
According to Aubrielle, her aunt had fled when Whitney was small.
And like a rash that wouldn’t go away, Truce was there.
My tolerance for him was almost gone. Reaper gave me a warning look. I acknowledged it.
We’d been greeted at the door, shown inside, and taken to the living room, where we were offered drinks. We declined. The four Carters all got beers. Truce took nothing. We wouldn’t drink anything, not even if it appeared to be sealed. You could never be too careful.
“Alright, now let’s talk business. As you saw Friday night, the fight ring is the real moneymaker.
And while we want to expand both, the bigger expansion is in the fight club business.
With your connections and infusion of modest capital, there’s no limit to how far we can expand,” Oliver began with a cheerful tone and a smile.
He thought he was a shark. In actuality, he was soon to discover he was a guppy.
There were murmurs of affirmation and nods from our side. He took that as our agreement and permission to continue.
“Here are the books,” Oliver said pleasantly as he pushed a paper ledger toward Reaper.
There was flag number one. Who keeps a paper ledger these days?
Someone who wanted to keep two sets of books—the one to show the IRS, aka the cooked one, and the real one.
If kept on paper, they were unhackable. Reaper casually pushed the book over to Tinker, who picked it up and opened it. Oliver’s eyelids flickered.
“This is Tinker. He’s our treasurer, as you can see. Spawn is our secretary, so ignore him while he types away. He’ll be taking notes. I leave nothing to memory when it comes to business,” Pres told Oliver matter-of-factly.
“I need to sit at the table. It makes it easier to type,” Spawn announced.
Oliver hesitated a mere couple of moments before nodding. “Sure, make yourself comfortable.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t post this on a cloud or send it electronically. No one can access it unless they get their hands on my laptop, and that won’t do them any good,” Spawn assured the group as he made his way to the table.
“Why won’t their getting access to it help?” Rome asked.
A wicked grin spread across Spawn’s face. “Because if they try to access it without the proper biometrics, password, and authentication question answers, the entire thing will be wiped.”
I saw the way Rome and Oliver’s brows arched. Jace appeared lost. Jock fidgeted. Truce stood there, arms crossed.
“Is it typical that you have the help sit in on business dealings?” I asked.
My words made all four Carters stiffen. The briefest darted glances to Truce and back were the response before Oliver answered. He let out a fake chuckle.
“No, we don’t. But Truce is more than our greatest asset. He has a stake in this.”
“A stake that warrants him coming to our strip club last night and telling us that anything to do with Aubrielle is your call rather than mine, ours?” I asked.
“Shadow,” Reaper said, the warning clear in his voice.
What the Carters and their stooge didn't know was that this remark was all rehearsed. We wanted them to believe I was stepping out of line. I wasn’t happy with their involvement with Aubrielle, while my club said nothing, which is what we wanted them to believe.
I narrowed my eyes but kept quiet. And as I sat there, listening to Reaper with help from others, I waited for Oliver to share how he had things set up.
It wasn’t just the accounting. It was expertly asking them about how they found people to fight.
How did they know they could trust those who came around offering?
How did they expand their betting clients?
What was their referral system like? What about the threat from competitors and law enforcement?
It was done in such a way that someone like Oliver and Rome, who were narcissists at heart, were free to brag.
Oliver might keep it under wraps in normal circumstances, but in one like this, he wasn’t as close-mouthed.
While it happened, and my president and VP expertly got them to reveal their methods, Tinker asked probing questions about the books.
Spawn quietly typed away. I saw Truce walk over a few times to stand behind Spawn, who didn’t react.
Finally, things were winding down. That’s when Tinker hit them with something they weren’t expecting.
“Okay, now let me see the real books.”
The silence was immediate and taut.
“I don’t know what you mean? Those are the only books,” Oliver protested.
Tinker dropped the ledger on the coffee table and shook his head at Reaper. As one, we came to our feet. Reaper scowled.
“You’re insulting my intelligence, something people should never do. That’s what you show the IRS and anyone else stupid enough to believe they’re real. I want the true P&L. Either produce it, or this meeting is done.” Pres’s voice was hard.
Truce moved closer. I shifted to intercept him.
I stood between him and my club, staring deeply into his eyes, nonverbally daring him to try it.
Reaper faced off with Oliver while Maniac moved to face Rome.
Tinker faced off with Jace. Spawn left the kitchen table and stood before Jock.
Oliver’s brother looked like he was ready to shit himself.
Spawn stood six feet six. Reaper was six feet three.
Tinker and Maniac were six feet four inches tall.
I was the shortest at six feet one inch, but it would be a huge mistake to discount me because of it.
Truce was the tallest on their side at six feet even.
We were intimidating, and we knew it. The Carters had never dealt with anyone like us.
The tension grew until Oliver yielded. He raised his hands in the air, making the universal sign of surrender.
“Wait, wait, there’s no reason for things to get ugly. I had to be sure. Anyone entering into a partnership with us must be on the same intellectual level. If you’d accepted that this ledger was the only one, you wouldn’t be the right partner for us. Rome, give Tinker the real one,” he ordered.
Rome crouched and removed another ledger from under the couch, handing it to Tinker. Tinker remained standing until Jace resumed his seat. Slowly, the others did. Spawn went back to the kitchen. I stayed where I was.
“Truce, enough,” Oliver ordered.
I didn't move until Truce stepped away by a couple of feet.
He resumed his cross-armed, scowling stance.
I kept an ear on the conversation and my gaze glued to the fighter.
I felt his desire to hit me, to destroy me, radiating off him.
I let him see my slight smirk and my nonverbal shout, Go for it.
The end was coming closer, and I could hardly wait.
I knew this would end with the two of us going at it.
Anticipation made my body hum and my blood sing.