Chapter Five
Declan
Icame here because I saw him walk into Dieter’s shop earlier sporting that giant bruise on the side of his face.
I was going to play it cool, but that was until I saw it up close.
You can see fucking knuckle marks on his jaw.
Taking his chin between my thumb and forefinger, I tilt his head to the side to get a better look.
He lets me in for just a second before he shoves me away from him in the next moment.
“It’s none of your business, asshole.” He glares at me.
I’d almost believe him if I didn’t see his fingers tap against his thumb out of my peripheral vision. It’s how I’ve always been able to tell if he’s full of shit or not. It’s his tell.
I make an obnoxious buzzer noise, “Try again.”
“I don’t owe you anything, Declan. I’m none of your damn business, and you’re none of mine. So go find some low level thugs to intimidate instead of me.”
Any other time his tantrum would make me smile, but right now I’m feeling too murderous.
“Jake, I’m serious.” I’m practically vibrating with anger.
“I own a fucking bar. Sometimes people get stupid and I catch a stray.” He’s staring at me incredulously, but there go his fingers again.
“Whatever, you’re right, you don’t owe me shit.” I throw my hands up and turn on my heels to get back on my bike. Turning back to him once my helmet is on and my bike is started, I see him mouth to himself, ‘Fucking Beast.’ I smile behind my helmet. Damn, haven’t been called that in years.
Pulling away from Jakob’s house, I ride into the city. He’s not wrong. I do have business today, and a lot of it. My first meeting is actually with his father about whoever is causing problems within the borders of both our territories.
Dead bodies have been popping up on both of our streets for months.
At first I thought it may be the Germans until the leader over there, Karl Schwarz, called Rowan to ask what the fuck we were doing.
Spoiler alert: It isn’t us. So now I’m on the way to meet Fischer and his boss, Henry Wolf, to figure this shit out.
Owen, my second hand, is meeting us at the office.
Over the past three years we’ve moved more into a legitimate business direction.
I guess the wives got tired of their men being shot at weekly.
So now we have a handful of legitimate offices and businesses outside of the clubs and restaurants we’ve owned longer than I’ve been alive.
One of the biggest ones is ‘AGC’. Adien’s General Contracting is a business we started when we realized a lot of West Side was being built up.
We employed the best GCs in Jersey to make sure the business the city would bring to us stayed local.
There’s a few conference rooms and offices in the building.
That’s where I work out of during the day and where we tend to meet up for meetings now instead of seedy bars or abandoned warehouses. We’re legitimate now, after all.
Pulling up, I note that Owen’s standing beside his silver Aston Martin waiting for me.
Parking right beside him, I pull off my helmet and hang it on my handlebars before running my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the helmet hair that I know is prominent.
Shaking off any last remnants of Jake and his bruised face, my focus centers on Owen.
Owen has been my second since my Da started putting me to work at fifteen.
When I was off at college he moved into my spot, ‘keeping it warm for me’ as my Dad would say.
He’s the perfect second, really. He’s thirty-three, no kids, single, and knows when to offer his advice and when to shut the fuck up and pull the trigger.
“Boss.” He nods as I lead us into the building. We’re still a little early, so the others aren’t here yet, which is exactly what we always aim for.
“Owen, what do you have for me?” Before I can swing the door open, Cormac pushes it open for me and nods in acknowledgment as he gruffs out a ‘Boss’. He’s my security when Kieran’s otherwise occupied. I don’t really need a guard, but it makes Kieran feel better so I go along with it.
“Lukas Fischer and Henry Wolf this morning to talk about our little pest control issue. After that is a meeting with Rossi, a couple of other appointments, and at the end of the day you’ve been asked to meet your brothers at the club for a five in the afternoon tee time.”
My brothers and I don’t and never have golfed before.
It’s code to meet them at the warehouse.
The time is which one, and it tells me what we’ll be doing.
This evening it seems we’ll be at our arms warehouse.
I can’t wait to figure out why. But first I have to focus on the appointment at hand, because in walk the Germans, and they look less than thrilled.
We greet each other before I lead them into the conference room and take a seat at the head of the table. Per usual, Owen sits to my right. I gesture for Lukas and Henry to sit and wait until everyone is seated before I begin.
“So, it’s come to my attention that we have a slight pest infestation. If rumors are to be believed, it seems your streets also have the same problem.”
Henry scoffs, “Rumors are just that, Declan. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The three dead bodies that were on your streets just hours ago say otherwise. I’m not your enemy here, Henry.
I want to work together to figure out who is behind this shit.
My streets are being tagged too.” I’m trying to keep a hold on my temper, but my patience is running thin with the events of this morning still running through the back of my head.
“We like to deal with our shit in house if it’s all the same to you, Mr. Byrne.” The cold glare Fischer is giving me from beside his boss is pissing me off almost as much as being stonewalled.
“You do what you want, Mr. Wolf. But I’m telling you right now that the problem isn’t coming from the walls of either of our own organizations.
It’s someone trying to make a grab for power.
I’m still going to look for the culprit with or without you.
I just wanted to offer you the courtesy of working together, seeing as we’re both on high alert because of whoever this is.
” My eyes swing from Wolf’s to Fischer’s and hold them just a beat longer than I typically would.
Just enough for him to remember that his children are within the confines of some of these territory lines.
“Fischer, doesn’t your son have a bar on the same street where one of the victims was brutally beaten and cut up last night? Like Boss said, we don’t care either way, but if I were you, I know that’d give me pause.” Owen probes for a reaction.
“You dare threaten my family, Mr. Quinn? You dare to bring up my children when it’s public knowledge that my daughter is in fact marrying one of your bosses? And you, Declan, you’re going to let this slide?” He roars, giving Owen the exact reaction he wanted.
Like I said, he knows what he’s doing, and he does his job well.
Playing the good guy to Owen’s bad I give him a menacing glare.
“Mr. Quinn meant no offense. He’s as passionate about the attacks on our streets as I would expect any of us to be.
He’s been with us longer than Rowan’s been in power, and he cares about this organization deeply.
He just got carried away. He doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt.
Especially one of our family members. Isn’t that right, Owen? ”
He plasters on a sheepish look. “Yes, Boss.” He turns to Lukas, “I’m sorry Mr. Fischer, I didn’t mean it to sound offensive or like a threat. I only meant to put in perspective the severity of what we’re dealing with.”
Lukas nods solemnly before turning his attention to Henry, who’s raised his hand to silence the room. “I’ll talk to the Boss, then get back to you on his plans. I’m assuming you’ll do the same?” He raises a brow in my direction.
“No need. My boss and I are on the same page. Keep in touch, and hopefully we’ll be working together soon.”
They take that as their cue, and we all stand and shake hands before they walk out of the building.
Once the door is shut and secure, I flop back into my chair and lean my head back.
This is going to be a long fucking day. While I’m waiting for Rossi to get here, my thoughts filter back to something Owen said.
Doesn’t your son have a bar on the same street where one of the victims was brutally beaten and cut up last night?
Blinding rage takes over my thoughts when I remember Jakob saying someone hit him. Could he have easily been last night’s victim? I’m not thinking clearly. On impulse I pull up my phone and send a text to the one person I thought I’d never text again.
Declan: Were you jumped outside of work last night?
I watch the three dots dance across the bottom of my screen before disappearing. It starts again, then disappears once again.
Declan: I can see you typing. Answer my question, Chaos.
Is it risky to use a nickname that’s been dead for half of a decade? Yes. Do I care since he called me ‘Beast’ this morning? No.
Mortal Enemy: No, I wasn’t. I told you I was hit at work after a fight got out of hand. Why do you even care?
Declan: I don’t. Just asking.
Mortal Enemy: Whatever you say.
I leave the phone on the table, trying to decide if I’m going to respond again. Who am I kidding? Obviously I’m responding.
Declan: Jake?
Mortal Enemy: What, Declan.
Declan: Be careful when you go to and leave work. I’m serious.
Mortal Enemy: Yeah, sure.
I set my phone down, content that we were friends for long enough that he knows I don’t fuck around when I warn someone to be careful. Just as I shake that shit from my mind, Cormac opens the door.
“Boss, Rossi just pulled up.”
“Send him in.”
I push all thoughts of my personal shit and potential war on the horizon to the far back corner of my brain as Rossi steps in to start our meeting.