Chapter Ten #2
Standing opposite them, there was a man built like a
linebacker. His dark hair was thick and wavy, his dark-brown eyes were alert
and locked on Marcus. He was wearing jeans, brown boots, and a long-sleeved
cargo shirt.
Lee Nightingale.
At his side was a man known on the streets as Stark. His
last name. His first was Lucas but everyone called him Stark, unless you were
someone he’d allow to call him Luke, and there weren’t many of those. He had
black hair, dark-blue eyes, a full beard that was trimmed precisely along his
jaw, and he was wearing black cargo pants, a tight, black, wicking shirt, and
black combat boots.
And last, there was a man on his knees. His hands were not
bound. But his head was bent forward and it looked like he was listing.
Shirleen and Darius had been playing.
Perhaps Nightingale and Stark, too.
Though, at a glance, Marcus noted it was only Stark who had
cut, bloody knuckles.
Marcus stopped and looked behind him.
Brady jerked up his chin but it was Louie who moved forward.
He went to the man on his knees, grasped him by his hair,
and yanked his head back.
The man grunted but nothing else. However, he looked like
he’d keel over if Louie didn’t keep hold of him.
Although his face was blooded and very swollen, there was no
mistaking he was the man Marcus saw in the video in Smithie’s security room.
The man who’d raped Daisy.
He nodded to Louie, who let him go.
He swayed so Marcus ordered, “Make him keep his knees.”
Louie dropped his eyes to the man.
Marcus looked to Shirleen but he said nothing.
“Figure that’s my invitation to take my leave,” she
muttered, shot him a grin, and said louder, “Time’s right, Marcus, Shirleen’ll be wantin’ to meet
your girl.”
Shirleen was a resourceful businesswoman.
She was also loyal as they came.
“I’ll be certain that’s arranged.”
Her grin got wide and white, then she looked to Darius.
Eyes to his aunt, he tipped his head to the door.
She nodded to him, looked through everyone in the room,
except the man on the floor she walked right up to.
“Aunt Shirleen,” Darius growled in a low, warning tone.
“You’re a pig,” she whispered down at the man on his knees.
His head swung not entirely in his control to the side in
order to look away.
Shirleen stood in contemplation over him for several long
moments before she turned and walked from the room, her high heels sounding
loud in the open space.
When that sound disappeared, Marcus looked to Nightingale.
“Darius tells me this was you.”
Nightingale tilted up his chin. “Got a new tracker. He’s
good. So far, no one’s been able to hide from him. When we were getting nothing
in Denver, we set him on it. He found this guy in Montana. Persuaded him to
share his story. That being, Smithie gave Jimmy Marker the guy’s name from
credit card receipts. Marker rolled up to his house with some squads, so he
knew your woman pressed charges. He was twitchy, not sure how she’d play it, so
he was also on the lookout. Before the boys could get into position, he took
off out the back. He waited until the coast was clear, got as much together as
he could, and left town.”
Marcus gave him a nod and looked to Stark but said to
Nightingale, “In future business, you don’t need a second.”
“Luke’s here because he helped Vance do the persuading and
he’s feelin’ the need to see this through,”
Nightingale responded.
That explained the bloody knuckles.
“Your tracker?” Marcus asked, eyes still on Stark.
“Vance needs clear of certain things,” Nightingale answered.
This meant his tracker was an ex-con.
It was good to know Nightingale was protective. It said a
great deal. It was also good to know Nightingale hired with a view to the
future, not judging what was in the past. That said more.
Marcus spoke directly to Stark. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Stark was known not to be a big talker. This he proved by
not replying but also not moving.
“You don’t want to be here,” Marcus warned.
Stark spoke again without speaking, doing this crossing his
arms on his chest.
Marcus looked to Nightingale. “You should take your man and
go.”
“I’m feelin’ the need to see this
through, too.”
Marcus held his gaze. “Detective Marker is not going to
close this case.”
Nightingale did nothing but put his hands on his hips.
“Your father is a cop, your brother is a cop, and your best
friend is a cop,” Marcus pointed out.
“Yeah, and none of them are here,” Nightingale returned.
“You’re also not going to dissuade me,” Marcus shared.
“Am I doing any dissuading?” Nightingale asked.
Marcus studied him.
Then he told him quietly, “I’m protecting you.”
A flash shot through Nightingale’s eyes.
Rage.
“I saw that fuckin’ tape,” he bit out. “And just sayin’, so did Vance and so did Luke. So I think you more
than anybody get me when I say Luke and me feel the need to see this through.”
He was young.
He was good at what he did, but he was young.
He’d learn.
Rage had no place in what they did, Nightingale’s place
skirting the edges of it, Marcus’s right in the middle of it.
You gave in to your rage, you got sloppy.
In their game, sloppy men didn’t survive.
You planned.
You executed.
Then you moved on.
“Let me protect you,” Marcus urged.
They locked eyes and it took some time but eventually
Nightingale proved he wasn’t only good, he was smart. He did this jerking up
his chin, cutting his gaze through Stark, and he dropped his hands from his
hips before he cast a glance at Tucker and strode away.
Stark stared at Marcus another beat before he dropped his
arms from his chest and followed Nightingale.
Marcus waited until the sound of the heavy door closing
echoed through the room and only then did he look at Darius.
“It’s arranged?” he asked.
“Zano and Townsend are both on board.” Darius walked to
Marcus, pulling a gun out of the back of his jeans and offering it Marcus’s
way.
Marcus took it.
Darius continued, “They find anything, it’ll be linked to
the House of Shade. Everyone wants Shade out. He’s sliding, somethin’
surfaces with this, things’ll get a lot more
slippery.”
“Is something going to surface?” Marcus asked.
Darius shrugged. Then he smiled.
Christ.
Cold as stone.
A long time ago, Shirleen’s now-dead husband made things
very difficult for Vincent Shade. He was holding on mostly because there was
always enough crime to go around, and even stupid and completely insane, Shade
managed to find his share.
He’d been a nuisance for some time.
Darius was correct, everyone wanted him gone. It was just
that, considering he was only a nuisance, no one felt any need to expend much
effort to see to that task.
Marcus could not know if Shirleen and Darius had reason to
lose patience and intended to deal a killing blow.
And he didn’t care.
He looked to the man on his knees.
“Vincetti’s clean up,” Darius
muttered and Marcus knew he was on the move. “Dom and his boys’re
en route. Ren is not in the know on this and Vito wants it kept that way.”
“Thank you,” Marcus replied.
“Serious, this piece of shit, don’t mention it,” Darius said
as his farewell.
Marcus waited again until he heard the door close.
Then he focused on the man’s eyes.
He was looking up at Marcus.
“Why?” Marcus asked.
“Just finish it,” the guy mumbled.
“Why?” Marcus repeated.
“Fuck!” the man exploded, the force of it making
him veer forward so he had to put a hand out to catch his fall. He didn’t right
himself but tipped his head back and shouted, “Just finish it!”
Louie pulled him back up to his knees by his hair.
“Fucking finish it!” he screamed, ripping his head
from Louie’s hold, listing again but keeping his knees.
“Why?” Marcus asked again.
“We gonna play this game?” the man
asked snidely.
“I’m thinking you might not have absorbed this, but this is
my game, so yes, we’re going to play it.”
The man glared at him then spat, “Had me ejected.”
“It’s my understanding you put your hands on her during a
private dance. That’s not allowed at Smithie’s.”
“She’s a fuckin’ stripper,” he hissed.
Marcus ignored that and he could because he’d learned early
how to control his rage.
“You broke the rules, she had you ejected, so you raped
her?”
“I know she’s yours. I’ve heard your name. Didn’t know it at
the time but I sure as fuck know it now. I also know nothin’
I say is gonna stop what you’re gonna
do. Maybe just make it last longer and be less fun, and serious, man, that guy
with a beard and his Indian friend weren’t a barrel of laughs. So not that I’m invitin’ that shit, but just sayin’,
to top the joyride I had with those fuckin’ guys, you’d have to get creative.
But how about we skip this bullshit and you just fucking finish it?”
Interesting.
Shirleen and Darius hadn’t played with him at all.
Only Stark and Nightingale’s tracker.
This meant Nightingale and his team had no qualms with a
variety of aspects of their business.
Marcus set these thoughts aside, studied the man before him
for some time, and then whispered, “You can’t answer me.”
The man looked away and Louie used his hair to make him look
back.
“Fuck,” he bit out.
“Do you have a mother?” Marcus asked.
“Fuck you,” the man spat.
“Sisters?”
“Fuck…you!” he leaned forward and shouted.
Louie pulled him back.
“You do, so why?” Marcus pressed.
“Because I could, all right?” he yelled. “Because I fuckin’
could and she couldn’t fuckin’ stop me that time, could she?”
Marcus tilted his head to the side. “That’s it? Because you
could?”
“Yeah, because I could.”
“So you’re telling me you thought she bested you and your
dick is so small, you couldn’t bear that blow so you needed to show her who had
the power?”
“Why do you do all the shit you do to wear your fancy suit
and have your men at your back?” the man countered. “Don’t stand there thinkin’ you’re better than me when you got me on my knees
and you got a gun in your hand I know you’re gonna