Page 23 of Fight
“I don’t know about the past, but I’ll never forget the way she screamed in the dumpster,” I grunt. “Cerenity sounded like she was being murdered.”
“The rats are feral,” Jasper sighs. “They were climbing all over her, and since she smells like blood, if she was left alone they may have gone for her.”
Shaking my head, I glance at my phone. I have to make a call, and I’m dreading it. He may not even pick up.
“I didn’t realize Arthur was such an issue. I’m gonna have to put him down,” I mutter as I pick up my phone.
“If he’s responsible, I’ll dirty my hands and help,” Jasper says. “Fuck, I meant to ask. Is your sister going to do a rape kit on the girl? She was so banged up, and then there were the human teeth marks on her…”
Neither of us really want to say her name, not when we’re snarling at the sight of her. Something inside of me says she’s mine. Augustine was acting the same way, even called her his.
How could they be scent matches and not bonded? I’ve heard your entire body chemistry shifts when you meet your scent match.
I don’t understand a lot of what’s happening in front of me, because Augustine is correct. I’m missing a lot of information, and it’s pissing me off. After we got the girl settled and David called me that Gabriel had called about a situation, I changed my clothes and fixed my hair before heading back out.
Now, I yank my hair tie out, scrubbing at my scalp as Jasper watches me in bemusement.
“Fuck, I’m going to have to kill this asshole, I can feel it,” I complain, calling Arthur even though it’s closer to five in the morning right now.
The phone rings so long I wonder if he really is sleeping when my hopes are dashed. Arthur was my father’s man before I took over. My father ran the skin trade in Chicago, so Arthur knows where all the auctions would be, though he forgets that I remember this.
I’m not a snot nosed kid anymore, and it looks like he may need a reminder.
“Hey, boss. Bit late, don't you think for a chat?” Arthur asks. I can hear the air from an open window, and he sounds really awake.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the man was higher than a damn kite. He doesn’t do blow when he’s working a job, but I’ve heard that he does on his down time. Having it at his disposal makes it really hard to say no to when we sell it all over the city.
“Yeah, I’m working late tonight. Haven’t been to bed, but had a job come across my desk,” I say. Arthur giggles at my words, solidifying my concerns about his drug use.
I pretend to be a legitimate business man with a gym that happens to make really good money, so I’ll use phrases he thinks are hysterical for a mobster.
I regularly get my hands dirty, but I know the phone lines sometimes have ears, so I rarely will say anything incriminating on it. Call me paranoid?
You’d be correct.
“Anyway, you’re the perfect person to help me with this. Think you can come by around one in the afternoon tomorrow?” I ask him.
If he’s been up all night, I doubt I’ll see him any sooner than that. One of the managers at the gym is opening up in the morning for business, so I’ll be able to catch some shut eye and check on the girl sleeping in my bed.
“Yeah, boss. That’ll give me enough time to find a hooker,” Arthur says with a smirk. “My plans didn’t work out quite the way I expected.”
“Did you take care of the guy who disrespected you?” I ask, the saliva drying from my mouth. Jasper’s lips pull away from his gums in a snarl, knowing that I’m talking about the little omega who ran afoul of Arthur.
I may be missing some information, but I’m not incompetent. I’ll fix the mess I made by not asking more questions the other day. I feel responsible for the terror the omega went through tonight, ending at my back door. Fuck, why can’t I say her name?
“Oh fuck, yeah, I almost forgot I came to you about that,” Arthur says, laughing like a hyena. The phone has been on speaker since I connected, but it’s so quiet in my office, he never noticed. “My truck is gonna need some body work done, but I fucked, er, him up and taught him a lesson. Beat the hell out of him, then left him for dead. If he survives, then great. If not, I don’t really care.”
Taking a breath, I pretend to respond to this as if this could blow back on us. “Arthur, I don’t want the cops at my doorstep, is that understood? We have some high pressure jobs coming up. I don’t need any heat around us.”
“No, no, boss,” he says hurriedly. “I promise, the little cunt won’t be back.”
I don’t think he realized his slip up, and I shake my head.
“You’re higher than a kite right now,” I grunt. “Please tell me you’re not driving.”
“Nah, Dad,” he teases me, because he’s in his late fifties. Fucker doesn’t act like it though. “I’ve got one of my men driving me around.”
My lips press together because his statement reminds me that when I kill Arthur, I’ll have to measure who is loyal enough to avenge him, and who isn’t. To be honest, anyone who hangs around Arthur probably is unhinged, and not in the ‘let’s chase an asshole down the road in a truck and see if he outruns me’ way.