Page 103 of LA King

Fifty-Four

Alejandro

We went straight from our meeting with Carmichael to our warehouse near the docks. On the way, Jax took a call—a lead on who Lucy Callaghan really is.

I knew there was more to her story. Lying little bitch.

She obviously targeted my Alana, using her to get to me. Maybe she and Blake are both in on it and her fear of him was all a ruse.

What I know for sure is that she’ll never be anywhere near my wife again after today. I’ll make fucking certain of that.

But for now, my focus needs to be elsewhere.

Hank greets Jax and me when we arrive.

“Are they all in there?” I ask, referring to the men I tasked with finding Blake Fielding for me.

“Yeah. And suitably shitting their pants, Boss.”

Good. They’ll be doing more than that by the time I’m finished with them.

I walk through the large open space with Jax following close behind. The four men standing in the center of the room turn when they hear our footsteps, and I can smell their fear from thirty paces away.

As they step aside, a naked man strapped to a chair comes into view. A single table sits against the wall, full of all manner of surgical instruments. I take off my suit jacket and remove my cufflinks and hand them to Jax.

The restrained man lets out a muffled cry through the rag stuffed in his mouth. His four guards move to form a line directly in front of me while I unbutton my shirt. These men aren’t my enemies. I know them and their families. Anton has been with me for seven years, Ray and Marco eight, and Jimmy almost ten. But they fear me as much as any enemy of mine, and they have every reason to.

“Can any of you tell me why the fuck I don’t see Blake Fielding tied to that chair?”

“He’s disappeared, Boss,” Anton says.

“He was in the wind before we could get a lead on him,” Ray adds.

I hum to myself as I remove my shirt and hand that off to Jax too. I glare at each of them, searching their faces for something that might calm my anger, but I find nothing. “You’re telling me that some low-life, scum-sucking cabrón from Chicago has avoided four of my best fucking men?”

“We’ve got his cousin, Boss—” Anton starts.

“His cousin?” My voice echoes off the bare walls of the vast building. “I don’t want his fucking cousin. I want him! And the fact that you had me come here to speak to the little prick tells me that his cousin knows fuck all. Or are you all so fucking incompetent that you can’t even extract information by yourselves now?”

“He’s given us some other leads to chase, Boss,” Ray says.

I get right in his face. “Leads? It’s been four fucking days, and all you have are leads? Are you fucking shitting me?”

The four of them shuffle their feet, looking down at the floor while Blake’s cousin whimpers in the background.

“Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you.”

They lift their heads until their eyes meet mine. Rage courses through my veins. “You do realize that this hijo de puta you’re looking for threatened my wife. He put his hands on my fucking wife!” Three of them visibly flinch, but Jimmy remains steadfast. He’s always been a tough son of a bitch. He’s also good at his job—usually.

“You’ve all fucking let me down. I gave you one fucking job.”

Jimmy nods. “We know, Boss.”

He’s barely finished his sentence when I punch him square in the jaw. He staggers backward and falls on his ass.

Ray steps forward. “We’ll find him, Boss.”

“Oh, I know you fucking will. Because you will not set foot back in this city until you have that fucker with you.”