2 Everett
March 22nd, 2022
I watched their little argument after they left The Club. The way he snapped only to apologize and coo, her body tensing, hands shaking like the meek girl she was. I shut the bar door and shot a narrowed glare towards Jake on my way to the back.
He frowned right back at me, drying that stupid glass for the hundredth time. We hired him to play a part and while he was doing just fine, he overdid it enough to get under my skin.
I ripped the curtain back, walked past the single door on my right, across the closet-sized room to the concrete stairwell at the other end. I descended into the dimly lit basement, finding Malachi washing the blood off his hands in the large, bucket-like sink in the back corner of the room.
I glanced towards the wooden chair near the far wall, splatters of blood staining the floor and walls from many other guests in the past, the freshest from Steven Pelgard himself. “What promises did he make this time?”
I asked, turning back to him. I hadn’t seen any money in his hand this time around, which meant Malachi was just about done with allowing the miscreant to borrow money without anything in return.
Finally. Although, I already knew he was getting to that point when he had me start tailing Pelgard’s little girlfriend. When we went after family members, that’s when things started getting serious. That’s when rational people knew they really fucked up.
Malachi shut off the water and dried his hands on the rag he had draped over one side of the basin. “He’ll have what he owes next time he comes,”
he informed me, which wasn’t news. That’s what they all said, and more often than not, they failed to keep their word. “Did you get any information from the girlfriend?”
My lip curled. “I think he’s driven her to insanity.”
Nobody talked like she did. Whatever he had done to her had fucked up her psyche, and by the way he treated her, I had my doubts he would give a shit if we kidnapped and tortured her, but I suppose that theory will be tested eventually.
Malachi turned to me, looking me over as he fixed his sleeves. “Abuse?”
“A form,”
I replied. Verbal was, at times, far more dangerous than physical. More damaging. “She’s useless, we should focus on him.”
I eyed the apron he had hung on the coatrack his fake wife put down here when we first came up with the ‘Kingsmen’ alias. It was covered in blood too. Old and new.
Malachi shrugged. “Keep watching her, start digging into her financial situation. If she’s got the money, then maybe we should focus our sights on her rather than him.”
We never went as hard on the females as we did on the males when it came to debt, unless they were the ones that had it. It wasn’t their fault they picked shitty men, we just needed to send them back with a warning plastered on their skin. ‘Give us the money or she’ll be getting your beating’.
But, again, I highly doubted Pelgard would give a fuck. “Who’s next?”
Malachi checked his watch. “Moses Drake will be coming by in 20 minutes.”
His eyes found mine. “A name revered in the Bible.”
“Perhaps he should have taken that more seriously before asking Mr. Kingsmen for a loan,”
I muttered. “Fine,”
I went on, taking off my own jacket, “I want a piece of him.”
“Having a bad day?”
he asked as I hung up my jacket and took out the cufflinks pinning my shirt down.
I pocketed them and rolled up each sleeve. “Frustrating conversations,”
I admitted coldly. I had looked into her a little already, and her pockets were deep, but like any gentleman, I was hoping Pelgard would start taking this more seriously so we wouldn’t have to resort to his secretly loaded girlfriend.
Olivia Lemont, who went by Olivia Rose to separate herself from her overly successful family, spoke about not believing in love, in twin flames.
We had the same beliefs in that sense, yet she got angry when I called the people who did believe in that stuff delusional. It could be a side-effect of what Steven had done to her, or maybe she was born crazy. I never believed it was possible until I met Azrael, who, at the ripe age of 8, had already exhibited sociopathic tendencies, and that was before he went through the program.
Before he was sentenced to that asylum for a year.
Despite his psychotic behavior, we did have one thing in common, apart from the program and our jobs; we both hated guessing games, although Azrael loved playing them.
When people weren’t straight up and clear with me, it irritated the fuck out of me.
And on top of all of that, we had more people this year not paying their debts than ever before. If we didn’t up the stakes, we weren’t going to get the payments we needed, and that just wasn’t acceptable.
Loans weren’t a big part of our business, but having the interest from giving them out did give us quite a bit of leeway in regards to other transactions we were doing, not to mention that doing this, reminding people who Malachi and his sons were, kept us right were we needed to be on this criminal hierarchy Jeremy had been kind enough to tell Emily about a few months ago.
I checked my own watch, confirming the date. “How are Greyson and Azrael holding up?”
Malachi nodded, tying on his own apron. “Good, I’ll be rejoining them soon. I think they’re closing in on Louis.”
Good. As much as I didn’t understand Greyson, I spoke to Jack about his views on Emily, him being the only other one, besides Jeremy, who had talked to her at this point, and he liked her.
She didn’t want to be a part of this world, not like Rae was, but she had a strong mind, a good will. She had been handling the Louis situation fine, as far as I knew, and I hoped, for Greyson’s sake, that she didn’t crack.
He actually loved her. Just as Jack loved Rae, and while I always knew Greyson would fall in love, he believed in that kind of bullshit, I never thought Jack would.
I don’t know, maybe there was something to this whole ‘love’ thing. I just didn’t care enough to look into it. Jack always believed he was most like Azrael, yet he went off and fell for a target, and while Rae was a good addition to The Family, Azrael and I never would have done what he had done.
I suppose we all had our own outlook on who stood where in our own Hierarchy, but one thing Jack and I could agree on was that Azrael was the worst of us and Greyson was the best.
“You accepted Emily into The Family quicker than you did Rae, why?”
I asked out of pure curiosity.
Malachi shrugged as he walked over to the cart along the other wall, lined with tools, some still bloodied from earlier clients. “I saw her and knew that she was a perfect fit for him.”
“And Rae?”
He was quiet. He was always quiet when it came to her. Jack had told me that Malachi and her mother had had an affair for many years, that she had gotten into the program because of that, but that she had found something out about us that had sent things into motion that we couldn’t stop. Secrets we weren’t permitted to know yet. We believe that Azrael knows those secrets, but he hasn’t even told Rae and Jack yet, and if Malachi knew, he certainly wouldn’t give anything away.
It was frustrating to say the least, but in Azrael’s words ‘the time would come’. Whatever the fuck that meant.
For now, we went on with our lives and our jobs. Malachi kept his secrets, Azrael kept his, and we waited. I knew how frustrated Rae was though. She had said as much the last time we had talked. Her father was still in the wind, getting away with everything he had done to her until ‘the time was right’. Jack hated that it was still a loose end. He loathed loose ends.
We all did.
“She earned it like everyone else did,”
he finally said, and that was that.
I nodded, checked my watch again and released a breath. “Mother dearest should be escorting him down soon.”
“Good.”