This setting was a dream a man like me could only dream of. Especially when he was still wading through the nightmares of the past.
Someone had followed me the other week, and ghosts from the past were resurfacing.
I wouldn’t rest until I knew what was happening. Until then, all I could do was dream.
Chapter 17
Claudius
* * *
Lights bounced across the room, changing colors. Pink, green, blue.
Bright but still dark. The Glass House was heaving with people. It was a trendy sort of club on the backstreets. Typical place for the underworld to hang.
Perfect to hide in plain sight but not always a good thing when it was too packed. Like tonight. Too many people around meant too much panic if shit happened and too many witnesses. Although really, I wasn’t concerned with that.
The minute The Four and I’d entered the doors, we got the respect we didn’t need to demand. People looked at us, then just as quickly looked away.
We sat around one of the booths on the second floor. Waiting.
We finally got a lead last night. All we had to do was search the heavens and the outer planes of hell to find it.
Tonight, we were here for Corey Manello. Joe’s cousin.
The fact that we’d been able to find someone within the immediate family line was significant though. Meant they really were back in town.
Luc had seen a grunt the first time. Seeing someone like a cousin meant the rats were beginning to drift toward the surface.
Back in the day, they’d worked the streets just like most of the other crime families. We knew each other’s territories. That had changed substantially after the accident that killed Marissa.
It was the secret squad that had picked him up on the radar in a brothel. Him and another grunt. An associate. A former cop who was dirty as a cop, dirtier on the street. This one not only did drugs, but he was a supplier too.
The squad told me he and Corey had business set up for tonight at the Glass House.
We got here at eight. Number two from the squad said they’d be here at eight thirty.
Jude leaned forward and tapped my elbow.
“Boss, there’s too many people,” he cautioned, eyes darting around the room.
Although the music volume where we were was turned down low enough to carry a conversation, it was still quite loud, and I’d had to get close to hear him.
“I know, but we stay,” I answered.
“The back, there.” Alex pointed to the staff door behind the stage where some girls were dancing. “We can head there if we need more privacy. There’s a room.”
Sounded perfect.
A waitress with very low cleavage approached us with a notepad and pen.
She looked like she had far too much surgery done on her face and her tits. Not appealing in the least. However, Dante took to her.
“Can I get you guys anything?” she smiled, looking at each of us.
“Yes.” Dante nodded with enthusiasm.
She got her pen ready to write and pushed out her already full lips. I didn’t get how women thought that look was good. She looked like a duck from whatever shit she’d puffed her lips up with, and whatever she’d injected in her forehead made her face stiff and rigid.
