“Bill here has been anexcellentpartner in the business. He found me auniqueway of laundering some of the business money that was deeply in need of cleansing,” he said.
“For a fee, of course,” Conyers added.
“For a fee,” Dreyven amended. “You know, he’s the one who cameup with the idea to open a church here,” Dreyven said, sighing happily. “Idyllic Midwest. Churches on every corner. No one looks too closely at the money that goes in and out of a church. Not even the Feds. I can run just about any amount of money through the church books I want. Whores, drugs, guns. Doesn’t really matter where it all came from.”
“So, here’s what’s going to happen, Mason,” Dreyven continued. “There’s too many breadcrumbs out there that might lead someone suspicious to my door. So, I’m letting you go.”
I almost didn’t comprehend what he said, and my mind struggled to make sense of it.
“…Letting me go?” I asked, dazed. Dreyven smiled evilly and continued speaking.
“Tomorrow, you will meet us at that address in Cleveland by 2 p.m., then we’re boarding a plane to Milwaukee, whereyouare going back to work.” I shuddered when he spoke, the knowledge of what he intended making my stomach roil.
A small hope flared that there might be some way to escape, but my thoughts must have been written on my face, because Dreyven barked, “Don’t get any bright ideas, Mason. You always think you’re smarter than everyone else. I told you, we own the cops in this county. One phone call to 911, one suggestion to any of your buddies that anything is wrong, and someone on that screen is dead.”
The blood drained from my face. He was going to let me go—only to force me to come back to him of my own volition.
“Bill will reach out to the Convention Committee and tell them you’re sick, or your pet goldfish died. I don’t really give a fuck. You aren’t going to be speaking at that convention. I can make much better use of your mouth elsewhere…” his voice dropped off as his gaze roamed my body.
“Let me explain what happens if you disobey me in the slightest. If you are late, one of them dies. If you run, someone else dies,” he said, nodding towards the photos of my friends. “You’ve madesomany friends, Mason, I’m not even sure who I would pick to go first.”
He tapped the screen and Zem’s picture.
“This is the girl, isn’t it? The one you stole from us?”
I just stared at him, mutely, still in shock from everything that had happened. Dreyven ran his fingers over her face, desire and arousal apparent on his face.
“I’d really like to meet her sometime, Mason. Just give me a reason…”
“They won’t believe I just want to leave. They won’t,” I insisted.
“Then you’d better convince them. You’d better convincehim,or he might be the first one I kill,” he said, tapping the gun against the photo of Lee.
I swallowed. The terror, which had receded for a few moments, spiked at his ultimatum.
“You’ve got me, leave them alone!” I said, my voice shattered. There had to be some way out of this. Someone who could help me. Something niggled at the back of my mind, a name, a phone number… and the face of the detective who had tried to help me when I’d woken in the hospital.
My thoughts were interrupted by Dreyven leering at me.
“You seem to be forgetting thatyouaren’t in charge here, you fucking whore.” Something in my expression must have changed, some hint of defiance that must not have satisfied him, because he frowned at me.
He picked up the desk phone and dialed, and when someone answered he looked at me and said, “And just to show I mean business… Gavin? Do it.” He said to the person on the other end of the phone then hung up.
An image of Lee, battered and bloody ran through my mind, followed by similar ones of all my friends.
“No!” I screamed, lunging across the desk at Dreyven. “I’ll do whatever you want! Don’t hurt them!” I yelled. I desperately grabbed for the phone, but Dreyven yanked it out of my reach. Instead of the handset, I ended up with my hands fisted in the front of Dreyven’s suit.
Dreyven obviously wasn’t expecting me to fight back. He and Ricky had long ago beaten the fight out of me, or so they thought.When I grabbed the front of his suit, he jumped. I saw something cross his face, a flash of emotion. Surely, he couldn’t be… afraid… of me?
Then it occurred to me… Dreyvenwasgetting older, his body worn down by a lifetime of vices. There was grey in his hair, the muscles he used to have were now mostly flab, and I saw a hint of perspiration on his upper lip as our eyes locked.
The moment between us was broken when Conyers grabbed my shoulder and dragged me back down into the chair.
“Siddown, fucker,” Conyers yelled.
I wasn’t a lightweight, but Conyers had to weigh fifty pounds more than I did. I knew fighting right now was pointless, so I sank back into the chair. I had to wait for my moment.
Dreyven’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me, his hands brushing across his front, his fingers straightening his jacket and tie.
