Page 1 of Room One Hundred and Five

One

Adrian

Ashadowy figure emerges from the darkness, illuminated by my headlights.

“We’re on.”

My gaze slides to my right to meet Emilio’s, my best friend and blood brother, before refocusing on the dark cavern in front of us.

“About damn time too.” Stefan, my other best friend and blood brother, grunts. I look to my left to see him wrap a hand around his neck and work at some kinks.

All three of us lean against the hood, tracking the moving shadows along our peripheral. But the one caught in my headlights is where most our focus falls.

Born from a habit I picked up from my old man, a few details make it into my memory bank as one of Club Genesis’ ‘runners’ makes his way toward us. He is tall, bulky from shoulders to calves, and he wears a long coat that looks a size too small.

“He’ll be a bitch to take down.” Emilio stubs out one cigarette only to light another.

I have every intention of making it out of this basement with my head intact and every other body part. There’s too much riding on this going smoothly for it to turn out any other way. “My thoughts exactly. Harlon better know what the hell he is doing.”

Harlon Constantine is part of a trio of friends back in Chicago. They operate a criminals-are-us kind of club where one with shady shit that needs doing can take out a contract and the club’s ‘runners’ fulfills them. It’s akin to working with starving lions hoping they don’t turn on you, but what Emilio, Stefan and I need done isn’t something you put out in the wanted section of a newspaper.

My gaze locks onto the way the runner’s right hand never strays too far from his thigh. Whether he has a knife or gun strapped there is anyone’s guess.

His gate is long, steady. Easy going. A lack of confidence is not an issue. A man with his job description normally doesn’t suffer from self-doubt. I would bet my last dollar the people he knocks off think he’s just a regular gym enthusiast without a care in the world until he’s in their face. By then, it’s too late.

Not much is known about this runner which has me on high alert. Harlon wasn’t in the over sharing mood and I am not in the position to be picky. That said, going into a deserted basement half blind is how you end up dead and probably why the acid in my stomach won’t stop churning. We prefer our offices on the thirtieth floor of the Centennial with a view of Seattle over its dank basement, but I can’t risk my father catching on to the shady shit this runner is about to do for us.

“Harlon Constantine said his man is trustworthy with the job we have for him?”

I nod to Emilio’s dubious question.

We trust Harlon, but I can speak for the three of us when I say no one is ready to extend that same courtesy to his hired help. Trust is earned in my book, but this time we are buying it. Where that will leave us when all this is done will either be an interesting story no one ever learns about.

Or we will be dead.

Restless just as much as the rest of us, Emilio pushes his weight off the car and checks his watch. “You’d think paying a man seven-point-five million dollars would make him punctual.”

“Easy. We do this and we can go upstairs and work out your pent up energy at Club Sin.” I come to stand at his side with Stefan moving in on my right.

Emilio is already shaking his head before I fully finish. “Sex is the last thing on my mind.” I watch him drag on the ass end of his cigarette one last time before dropping the smoldering thing and stomping out the embers against the dingy cement.

“I’m more bothered by your nasty habit than some thug in a trench coat for fuck’s sake. Why can’t you take up drinking like the rest of us. A good top shelf whiskey at least smells better.”

Stefan steps a couple of paces from us, waving a hand in front of his nose.

Smoke spills from the corners of Emilio’s humorless grin. He stoops and picks up the crushed cigarette, wearing a cloak of indifference. “I’m a work in progress. Me smoking a cig and it bothering you is the least of my worries right now.”

It goes silent for a second and it’s bliss. These two have been at each other for hours now. I get it. Everyone is on edge, but damn. Both of my best friends turn their attention on me when I don’t add to their bickering.

“You having second thoughts, brother? We’ve got about twelve seconds before this man reaches us. Now’s the time to back out of this.”

Stefan has a way of stripping everything down to the bare bones with a limited amount of words.

“I hate going behind my father’s back and doing this shit is all. Let’s just get it done.”

Stefan lifts a shoulder like the choices in front of us are easy. “We back out, the Astor family will lose everything.”

“I know.” The weight of the family’s crest etched into my pinky ring has never felt so damn heavy.

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