Chapter 14 Fault Lines #2
Danny stands up, checking his watch. "I need to get back before anyone notices how long I've been gone. But Jay, if you can reach out to him, that would be huge. We need someone with skills the department doesn't have."
After Danny leaves and Nick gets pulled into a phone call, Jay and I are alone in the cramped office.
"How bad is it really?" I ask, because I can see there's more he didn't want to say in front of Danny.
Jay runs a hand through his hair, suddenly looking older than eighteen.
"Really fucking bad, Nate. Like, people losing their homes.
Small businesses that've been in families for generations getting shut down over fucking nothing.
And when these people can't pay rent, can't afford to relocate, they're turning to shit that makes everything worse. And somehow, it’s readily available for them on every street corner. "
He starts pacing, agitation growing as he talks.
"There's this convenience store, Maria's Deli.
Maria's had that place for over thirty years, never had a problem.
Then last month, suddenly there's a gas leak that needed immediate attention.
Costs more to fix than she can afford, so she has to close.
A week later, the place is up for sale and gets bought immediately. "
I can picture it perfectly—the systematic dismantling of a community, piece by piece, family by family. It's efficient in a way that makes me sick.
"And the drugs? Flooding the area right when people are most desperate. Cheap heroin, fentanyl, meth. People who never touched anything harder than beer are suddenly addicted to shit that destroys everything they have left."
Jay stops pacing and looks at me directly.
"It's like someone's trying to create the perfect storm—take away people's livelihoods, flood the area with drugs, then point to the crime statistics as justification for cleaning house."
The methodical cruelty hits me like a punch to the gut.
This isn't just gentrification—it's social engineering.
Psychological warfare against people who don't have resources to fight back.
"And you think Scott's orchestrating it all?"
"I think you know Scott better than anyone," Jay says quietly. "That piece of shit is the kind of guy who sees other people's misery as a business opportunity. And I think he's smart enough to do it in a way that keeps his name off the paperwork."
We sit in silence, both processing the implications.
"There's something else," Jay says, voice dropping lower. "Something I didn't want to say in front of Danny."
I wait.
"Scott's using the police department to apply pressure in specific areas.
Danny's reports aren't just getting buried—they're being redirected.
The areas he's flagging for suspicious activity have a fuck tonne of patrols, but not the kind that actually help residents.
The kind that makes people nervous about calling for help. "
The picture becomes clearer, more sinister.
Scott's not just profiting from misery—he's manufacturing it. Using the very systems supposed to protect people as weapons against them.
"Jay." My voice comes out rough. "If Scott's really behind this, if he's got cops on his payroll..." I trail off, thinking about Jake sitting in Scott's office right now, eager to please, desperate for approval. "Jake's working for him."
Jay's face goes pale. "Shit."
"And Jake's so desperate to prove himself, he'd probably do whatever Scott asked without questioning it."
The conversation with Jake this morning replays in my head—his nervousness when Scott called, the way he grabbed those files like his life depended on it. What kind of files does an eighteen-year-old intern need to review?
"We need to figure out what Jake knows," I say, though the thought of potentially discovering my little brother is complicit in this makes me feel sick. "But we need to be careful. If Scott suspects we're looking into this..."
"He'll make sure we can't prove anything," Jay finishes. "And he'll probably find a way to make our lives fucking hell in the process."
This is the same man who just last summer got awarded the key to the entire fucking city. Same man who destroyed my family, who's spent years cultivating influence and control.
If he's really behind what's happening in South Side, stopping him won't just be difficult—it'll be dangerous. But the alternative is letting him continue tearing apart other families the way he tore apart mine.
And that's not something I can live with.
"Alright look, get in touch with Adrian," I tell Jay. "See if he's willing to help. And give him my number."
Jay nods. "What are you going to do?"
"Figure out what Jake's gotten himself into," I say, though the words feel like a promise I'm not sure I can keep. "And try to get him out before Scott ruins him too."
Driving home, everything feels like it's slowly unhinging. Just when I finally got a grip on my life again, the wheels are slowly coming off.
My phone buzzes.
Unknown Number
What do you need?
I stare at the message, knowing that responding means crossing a line I can't un-cross.
It means admitting that Scott Sullivan is still capable of causing damage, still pulling strings, still poisoning everything he touches.
But it also means finally having a chance to stop him.