Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
He got to the door and snarled down at me. “I said Octavia is neutral. I’m not. Get the fuck up if you want to see your friends alive.” He rested the end of his gun against my forehead.
So my friends had been taken? That was one answer given.
I needed more. “If Octavia is still neutral that means you’re violating your employment. This won’t go unpunishe—”
His growl was savage as he reached down and hauled me back up. “That’s the whole point of this. Don’t you get that?”
I gulped. “What are you talking about?” But I was up and standing, though my knees were shaking so much that I was swaying back and forth.
“I am done waiting for someone to actually do something to take out your boy. West and Walden ain’t doing shit. If I need to get involved so other parties come to play, Mafia families bigger than West or Walden, so be it. No matter what, your boy’s going to be killed, and that’s all I want.”
It was the first time I was seeing Spence in daylight, and he had pulled me so close to him. He wore colored contact lenses. “Your eyes.”
He blanched as his hand tightened so hard on my arm, banging on the door. “Shut up.”
“Why would you wear colored contact lenses?”
I ran through the reasons and landed on only one that made sense. Because he had eyes that would give away something he didn’t want out there. Which meant he had eyes that would tell me something, eyes I knew. What did that mean though?
No eyes made a difference to me except another set of eyes I saw recently.
When I met Creighton’s cousin months ago, he had the same eyes. The same gray color.
I did a DNA test on Creighton years ago and found out he had family in Maine. His mother was Taunti Worthing, who came from the Worthing Mafia family. Creighton took over those Worthing assets. It was a hostile takeover, from what I gathered.
The door opened, and Spence shoved me inside. “Enough talking. Let’s get this over with.” Two big guys moved aside, making room for us. They were in business suits, and each held a handgun. The bulges underneath their coats were more guns. I knew my Mafia types by now. These guys were foot soldiers.
Spence huffed. “Are they here?”
Both ran impassive looks over me, up and down, before one of them nodded to Spence. He gestured behind him. “Inside.”
Spence continued to shove me in front of him.
I saw my friends.
For a split second, I’d hoped all of this had been a ruse to get just me. That my friends were actually fine, probably eating breakfast somewhere together.
My stomach dropped.
None of it had been a ruse.
Against the far well was a row of jail cells, and inside one was Palma, Marshall, and Heath. Levi had his own next to them.
Palma was pale, tears streaking down her face. Marshall was bruised up. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and his mouth was bloodied. Heath was similar. All three had their hands zip-tied behind them. There was tape over their mouths and around their heads.
My gaze went to Levi last and winced at seeing the state he was in.
He didn’t have the same tape around his mouth and head. And he wasn’t handcuffed or zip-tied, but it didn’t look like it was needed. His jaw was physically hanging enough to the side so I knew it’d been broken. His face was one giant black and blue bruise with blood caked all over him. Both of his eyes were swollen shut. He was unconscious.
His shirt was half torn off of him with more blood seeping through. He’d been thoroughly beaten to a bloody pulp. I started to go to him, my heart tearing out of me, but Spence jerked me to him. His hands dug in even harder. “I don’t think so.”
The door slammed shut behind us. The two men came up behind us at the same time another door opened from the other end of the warehouse.
Four more men stepped inside, looking similar to the two guys behind us. Business suits. Guns in hands. Mafia soldiers. But behind them were another two men, and those two, I knew.
Tristian West and Ashton Walden had arrived.
Chapter Forty-Two
Creighton
I was in Nightclub 3 when my phone rang.
Lassiter was also just walking into my office. I showed him my screen, and he gave a nod. He came inside, but shut the door and remained quiet as I accepted the call.
“Gus.” The lead in my IT department. “What’s up?”
“Uh.”
Lassiter and I shared a look.
Gus was never uncertain. Eating. Excited. Nervous. Never hesitant.
“Gus,” I said again, more assertive. “What’s wrong?”
“Okay.” He let out some air and plunged ahead, sounding out of breath. “We might—I mean, you—you might have a problem. You told me to corrupt the AI drone program, right?”