Page 118 of Arran's Obsession

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.”

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