Arran’s Obsession: Chapter 33
Entering my office, Shade and Jamieson carted in a bloodied, unconscious man between them. They dumped him on the floor, the door kicked closed behind them and only the three of us present.
The fewer witnesses the better.
Adrenaline swirled inside me, clamping hold of my gut and boosting my anger. I opened my mouth to demand they wake him, but my phone rang.
The name on my screen stalled me.
“The fucking mayor himself,” I snapped.
Shade curled his lip and stepped back from the slumped body. “Answer the arsehole, then.”
I tapped my screen. “Mayor Makepeace. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
A cold, calm voice answered. I pictured the man in his office, his thatch of brown hair with a reassuring speckle of grey at the temples, his awards and political pictures on his desk. A woman underneath, sucking him off.
“Mr Daniels, I’ll make this brief. Your presence in the city this evening was witnessed by too many.”
He meant our tussle with the Four Milers. For fuck’s sake.
“Unexpected and not to be repeated,” I replied.
“Be that as it may, it compels me to act for the sake of maintaining peace. I have to be seen to be in control, as you’re aware.”
I watched Shade, with his tight jaw and bloodied hands. He knew well enough about the mayor’s love of control.
“Understood,” I gritted out. “Do what you need to do.”
There was silence for a moment, then, “Is our arrangement…well?”
In disgust, I hung up the call, and in an even sourer mood, circled my desk to the prisoner. “Wake him up.”
Shade lifted the man’s drooped head with two fingers under his chin.
Then drove his fist into his jaw.
Convict dribbled blood. “Stop. Please.”
“Shut your damn mouth,” I ordered.
He jerked, peering at me through a swollen eye. “Arran? God, brother, I’m begging you.”
“Save your breath. I gave you one chance to redeem yourself, and I’m a fucking fool for my leniency.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong, I swear it.”
“Don’t bother. We found you in Four Miler territory, fronting up for them. I knew the second I saw you outside that house who you were, you dumb fuck.”
After Genevieve had mentioned the way Convict stood, the tilt to his head, I’d seen it in the gangster in a balaclava by the side of the road. He’d hidden his face and his snake tattoo this time, but I’d seen through it.
It was his blood I’d spilled, along with the idiot at his side who’d tried to defend him. It was the main reason I was almost certain Red, the leader of the Four Milers, wouldn’t go to war over this. He’d taken my man and lost.
Fuck both of them.
“You’ve switched allegiance. Screwed me over without the decency to call in your side change.”
I nodded to Shade who kicked out again, landing his boot in Convict’s gut. Our traitor choked up vomit and blood, pink drool sliding from his mouth. My enforcer righted himself and turned away, white-faced and shaking. For all our love of violence, neither of us could enjoy this. Convict had been a friend. Loyal from the start. Until he’d chosen not to be.
Convict took a shuddering breath. He might not feel pain, but the man was suffering. “I’m not double-crossing you. You gave me a job and I did it by any means necessary.”
“Which was to be in Manchester watching Jordan Peters.”
“And to watch the Four Milers to find your woman’s old man. Peters went on the road, so I drove home today. I was going to come in but—”
“Someone offered cash for my head? What was it, Convict? The money or a personal beef? You wanted a better position here, well, congratulations, I’ll bury you under the fucking foundations.”
“I did it for Genevieve. You have to believe—”
I rammed my knuckles into the side of his face. “Take her name out of your fucking traitorous mouth.”
He moaned. I freed my knife from the holster, fucking gutted with how this had gone down. My own crew member, one of the closest people to me.
A hasty knock rattled the door.
Without waiting for an answer, Tyler burst in, one of the crew I’d called in as extra security this evening. Whatever this was, it had to be fucking good. None of them would dare interrupt otherwise.
The tough-as-nails crew member didn’t even blink at the scene. “Sorry to interrupt, but drop everything. We’re being raided.”
Holy fucking hell. I was back at my desk and snapping open a hidden drawer in a flash, Shade rounding to my side to pull a hidden weapon of his own.
“How many Four Milers?”
“No, boss. It’s the cops. They’re in Divine, throwing their weight about.”
I stalled, swore, then dropped the gun I’d picked up. Shade did the same, his jaw clenched. We continued, stashing our knives away. Shade took another blade from his boot. A third came from somewhere else on his person.
Lastly, I pulled my wallet and keys, leaving it all.
“What fucking timing,” I snarled.
“Prime time for someone else to slip in,” Shade returned quietly.
He was right. “Tyler, get back outside. Make sure your people stay far back but keep watch. No one else comes close.”
He acknowledged me with a dipped head. “We locking this place down?”
“Only Divine. The nightclub stays open but only for those already inside. People can leave but no one else can come in. All internal doors are locked.”
Tyler left us. Through the open door, pandemonium had broken out. People running. Fear high. I knew exactly how this was going to go down. Why the cops were here and who they wanted to see.
Frustration consumed me, and I came back to Shade. “You know the drill. Take Convict away. Get the staff organised and whatever damage has been done to Divine cleaned up. Get the crew in line.” Then I gestured to Jamieson to include him in my commands. “While I’m gone, guard her with your life.” They couldn’t doubt who I meant. “Whatever else happens, don’t let her out of your sight.”