When his eyes widen and he backs away from my desk, I can’t help myself. “I’ll see you around, Chad.”
“No, no!” He runs out the door and right into Mal’s large body. He shrieks and runs around him and down the stairs.
“Joke’s on him. We’re a hundred stories up.”
“I’m impressed with your restraint,” Numbers says. “I thought for sure you were going to kill him when he said he wasn’t a rapist.”
“Almost did, but seeing how scared he is, it just makes this so much better.”
“When are you going to go after him?” Mal asks.
“Follow him around for a week and make sure he sees us. Then I’ll pay him a visit.”
“Damn, boss. You’re really going for it. I like this cat-and-mouse shit.”
“Do you think he’ll run?” Numbers asks.
I shrug. “He won’t get far.”
26
CHAD
What’s with these fucking mobsters?
Why does everything need to be so old-school mafia movie?
Hart was in a fucking mansion, and now the Hellhounds are in a rundown warehouse on the docks.
My feet stop when I see the place I’m supposed to be meeting with Travis in. There’s a single door, and a huge meathead stands in front with a yellow light flickering above his head.
Jesus, change a fucking lightbulb.
I’m starting to think this is a bad idea, but since my dad won’t handle this for me, I need to take care of things myself.
Fucking Rory, getting revenge through Hart. Why couldn’t he pick the scumbag Hellhounds? Now I’m stuck with the lesser of the two.
“Not another step,” the meathead orders, and I stop, holding my hands up.
“I’m here to meet with someone,” I say calmly.
“What’s your name?”
“Carl.” Why would I give these fuckers my real name?
“I gotta search you first.”
I hold out my arms, and he gives me a quick pat down.
“Alright, go ahead, Chad.”
I step past him into the dark space.
Wait, did he just call me Chad?
I’m just about to turn and ask him when he shuts the door behind me and everything goes dark.
Oh shit.
