Page 77 of They Break Beauty

“I was just following orders along with Royce. Your old man and the girl’s knew that’s all it was on our end.”

“On your end, perhaps. Royce was another story. Malcolm might have been the big boss back then, but Royce was his right-hand and overjoyed to be so.” Overjoyed by a lot of what had gone down in that hellscape, what he’d inflicted upon us. “I understand why you’re defending him, though. After all, you have all of this because of him. His resources and the protection of that militia he’s running these days ensure your safety and that you can actually have a life after what you did for that sadistic madman.”

I put my legs down and pushed to my feet, noting Kyle eyeing me warily.

Shoving my hands into the pockets of my suit jacket, I commented, “Also, in order for you to remain safe, you need to remain a step ahead. That means knowing where your enemies are at all times. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that you know Malcolm is alive and well.”

“Listen, kid—”

I slammed my hands down on his desk, rocking it under the force of my strength. “I’ve laid eyes on him, you fool!”

He choked. “Jesus. How the hell did you manage that?”

“That’s for me to know.” I pushed off the desk. “Just like I also know that rumors have been circulating in underground circles you’re still connected to concerning the reawakening of a sleeping giant. Moves have been made, deals struck by a shadowed organization with no apparent name. Power plays are being made all over the place. They’ve tried to fool people into believing they were separate acts and moves committed by different groups and individuals, but I’ve managed to connect them to a single effort. This is one organization trying to rise, to exert influence, and claw its way to the top within the criminal underground.”

“And you think it’s Malcolm?” He shook his head and rose to his feet. Starting to round his desk, he told me, “Look, Levi, I get you heading down this path. But it’s not gonna turn out well for you at all. I’ve just confirmed to you that Malcolm Lynch is alive. Let’s leave it at that, yeah?”

“You didn’t confirm anything. I told you I already knew.”

“It’s all I know too.”

“I understand.”

“I’m glad.”

“So, you really have nothing else for me, hmm?”

He held out his hands either side. “I really don’t.”

“I see.”

“So, we’re good here, yeah?” he asked, walking to me.

“We’ll never be good.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” I held out my hand, giving him my best performance smile.

He hesitated for a moment, but as I kept my hand out steadily, he did what weak shits tended to do and gave into the pressure of social expectations, and reached out to shake it.

The moment we connected, I used the hold to yank him to me, deliver a chop to his throat that had him choking and disorientated, and I took advantage of it to haul him around, using his weight as an asset for me as I forced him down into a bent position over his desk.

As he struggled, I swiftly drew a blade from the inside pocket of my suit jacket and then drove it through the back of his hand, crucifying it to the desk.

Take your punishment, bitch.

He squealed like the fucking pussy he was and flailed on the desk, thumping his free fist down on the oak in agony.

“Christ! We check for weapons... how did you get the knife through?”

“My vodka needed a lime. The bartender turned their back to serve other patrons, giving me the opportunity to lift it.”

“Fuck. Take it out. Please,” he begged.

“Please?” I hissed. “Did you pay any mind to my pleas in that hellscape during those two weeks of torment? To hers?”

“I… couldn’t. Malcolm wouldn’t allow it… would’ve killed me.”

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