“Untrue.”
“But, could easily be assumed. You picked me up on the same block they’re selling pussy by the pound in Clarke. At least twenty-four thousand dollars are spent on that very stroll every night. Thirty six on weekends.”
“And you know this because?”
“There’s not much I don’t know about Clarke. Now, back to the call. Male or female?”
“Male.”
“Figured.”
“You saw him?”
“Possibly, but I doubt he was working alone. Could’ve been a partner.”
“Maybe the cameras at The Bal–”
“Finding him doesn’t make the evidence disappear. He could easily have everything scheduled and ready to go in the event of his death or imprisonment. I’m certain he’s thought this through. We need him alive.”
Ishmael nodded. So did Mercer. So did Indigo.
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m right,” I stated as a matter of fact.
Ishmael began pacing. I made the mental note. He was unraveling at the seams. Weariness weighed him down, slowing his stride.
“How much is he asking for?”
“Two point five.” His brother spoke up.
“Million?”
“Yes,” Indigo responded.
“How much to make this go away?”
“Two point five,” I demanded.
“Million?” Indigo asked.
Ishmael stopped in his tracks. Eyes trained on me, he watched as I nodded.
“We might as well pay him for the images,” he reasoned.
I agreed, “Yeah. You should.”
I turned on the balls of my feet. Mercer didn’t hesitate to follow me. I didn’t need his leadership. I remembered every corner we’d turned to get to the office we were in. Just as Icrossed the threshold, the thunderous baritone I remembered so vividly made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
“Royce!”
My eyes grew in my skull. My heart imploded. My chest caved. Everything around me roared with silence. All that was left was the unsteady breaths of mine, each armed with jagged edges.
One.
Two.
Three.
