She growls and hangs up on me, and I can’t keep in the fucking laughter. Especially when I pull the feed up and see her stomping her cute little feet around the house mumbling to herself, probably berating herself for even picking up the phone.
The fun has only just begun, little mouse.
Chapter 20
The Shadow
T
he bass from the music is all-consuming. It feels like the beat is coming from inside my chest. I never quite got used to the volume in clubs.
I make my way through the throng of grinding couples, drunk girls shaking their asses, and obnoxious douchebags wearing too much cologne with a mountain of gel in their hair. Oh God, one even has his button-up parted so he can show off the gold chain dangling on his hairy, overly tanned chest.
Scarface is a role model very few manage to do justice to when they imitate him. They can stick their faces in a pile of coke but don’t exhibit the same finesse while doing so.
My hood is pulled over my head, concealing my identity as I make my way up the metal stairs. The same metal steps Addie climbed up not too long ago with another man’s hand wrapped around hers.
I enjoyed sawing off that hand and would definitely do it again.
When I reach the landing, I stop short. On the half-moon couch is Max with his legs spread and a waitress bouncing up and down on his lap while his head is kicked back with his eyes closed. Her skirt is hiked up, and her thong pulled to the side, baring her pussy eating up Max’s cock for all to see.
I arch a brow, unimpressed with how low she has to bounce. Addie would never have that issue.
A pair of twins sit on either edge, receiving their own treatment from a girl.
Sighing, I step back in the shadows, pulling out my gun and screwing on the silencer piece. The bass is milder up here, but a bullet zipping by your ear will draw anyone’s attention.
I take aim and shoot, the bullet an inch away from Max's head.
Immediately, he dives for cover, pushing the poor girl off him and onto the floor. She yelps, covering her body as she scrambles up and makes a run for it.
“Hey,” I say calmly. She freezes, while the twins move into action, reaching for their own guns while Max quickly yanks up his slacks to cover his now flaccid dick.
“I’d appreciate it if you tuck the guns back in your pockets along with your dicks. None of you are my type. Unfortunately for you, I only have one, and she’s got pretty light brown eyes and a penchant for dangerous men.”
When one of the twins doesn’t listen, continuing to pull out the gun and take aim, I fire off one shot next to his head too. He drops the gun and raises his hands.
I turn my eyes to the three girls. “I want you beautiful ladies to see yourselves out and never speak of this again, yeah? I have the memory of an elephant, especially with faces.”
These women will never see the wrong end of my gun, even if they do tell, but it sure as hell would make my life a lot harder if they knew that.
They all nod and run out of the room like there’s a Rottweiler nipping at their bare asses.
“Who the fuck are you? Where the fuck is security?” Max spits, a hand resting on the gun in the back of his pants.
“Security from this club?” I laugh. “You know, for someone who has some pretty seedy business dealings, you’re a cocky son of a bitch for not having your own damn guards.”
Max sniffs with indignation. I smile wider, realizing that he’s still struggling with loyalty and that pesky power vacuum now that the Talaverras are wiped out.
“Couldn’t get any loyal guards?”
“Mind your fucking business,” he snaps. “Who are you and what do you want?”
I trot over to where he’s sitting and take a seat next to him, sighing as if I just sat on a beach chair on a private island with a pi?a colada.
And then I press the cold metal of my silencer to his temple. I’m riding on the fact that at least these two bozos will show him a shred of loyalty.
“Does it freak you out when someone pops up out of nowhere and threatens your life? I’ll admit, I was a bit more direct, but the intention is the same.”
The twins’ eyes shift to each other.
“What the fuck are you talking about, man?”
“I’ll tell you why I’m here when the three of you set those purdy little guns you got riding up your assholes on the table there,” I say, nodding my head towards said table.
The twins look to Max for direction, and when he nods, they listen.
Oh. Goodie. He does have two people that have a shred of loyalty. Let’s see how long that lasts when someone who is clearly in over their head is running the show.
A bead of sweat drips down Max's forehead as he follows my directions, nearly throwing the weapon on the table from his anger. The other two follow suit, one twin picking his up from the ground and the other sliding his out from the back of his pants before setting them on the table with Max’s. Slowly and gently. Indicating this isn't their first rodeo where a gun is in their face.
“Adeline Reilly and Daya Pierson. Those names ring any bells in those empty heads of yours?”
Max's eyes round at the edges slightly, enough to reveal recognition.
“Never hear—”
“Here’s the thing about liars,” I cut in. “I really don’t fucking like them. They kinda make me twitchy actually. Do you want me getting twitchy when my finger is on a trigger?”
Max’s lips tighten into a hard line.
“Your girl was involved in my best frie—”
“And here’s the thing about assumptions,” I cut in again, grinning when Max snarls with irritation. “They’re baseless, and most of the time, you’re really fucking wrong. Addie doesn’t have anything to do with Archie's death. But I do.”
Max's head jerks towards me but is deterred by the gun still firmly pressed against his temple. He grits his teeth, his chest heaving with fury. I smile as his body trembles.
“What, is Addie an ex or something? You get jealous she wanted Arch instead?” Max hisses. Man, those two really were besties. They sound exactly alike when laid on their deathbed.
I shrug, unbothered. “I did get jealous, but she’s certainly no ex. Your best friend was a shit person. You sorry pieces of shit may get off on slapping around women but can’t say I find enjoyment out of that.”
“I will fucking kil—”
“You’re not going to do shit,” I interrupt for the third time. “You’re a tadpole in an ocean of sharks and you have no fucking idea who I am, but you’re about to learn.”
When Max's eyes meet mine, I flash my teeth, pull out my phone and click the play button on the awaiting video.
Max’s father sits in a chair with a gag in his mouth. Sweat and tears run down his face as he looks at the camera with all the fear humankind has ever known.
The two of them are as close as a father and son can be, sharing the same interests in drugs and tossing around women for the hell of it.
His father rambles behind the gag, pleading for his life. I have no plans to kill the man. While he’s a shitty human, he wouldn’t be any good to me dead. Not when he’s going to be the leverage hanging over Max's head.
I came awfully close to walking in here and shooting them all dead, but then I’d have to kill all their families too, and my girl doesn’t like it when I do that.