Page 148 of Bad for Me

7

STORM

When I get backto the office, Elio and Garth are standing around his desk, looking over some paperwork. Pictures are also spread across the surface, stills taken from the video. In one, the image has zoomed in on some blurred lettering on the wall. In another, they zoomed in on a small window just over Atlas’s shoulder.

“What’s this?” I ask and pick up the picture with the words. “Is there any way to clear it up so it's easier to read?”

“Yeah, I sent the video over to our tech guy. He is working on it now,” Dad says and pulls over a picture I hadn’t noticed. It’s a close-up of a man’s arms with a tattoo of an anatomical heart with a dagger stabbed through it. There is an L branded into the center of the tattoo, and my heart races.

“That’s Drexel Hawthorn’s mark. These guys are part of his crew?” I growl. “I thought you took care of him?”

Drexel and his men had moved into our territory just before I left. They were a small crew to start, nothing to worry about. They barely pinged our radar. But slowly, they grew and started trying to branch out. The last I heard from Dad, Drexel and his men were starting to dabble in human trafficking. Something Dad would absolutely never stand for in our territory.

“We did. Or I thought we did,” Dad snaps. “Over a year ago, we ran them out of the city and destroyed their foothold here. We burned down their stash house, which had nearly two million in drugs and managed to free over fifty men, women, and children they had imprisoned. Somehow, they’ve tangled themselves up with Jarred. I’m not sure if they’re working for him or if they came together just to try to take us out. But either way, this isn’t not good for us.”

“Do you have any idea about how we can fix this?” I ask.

Dad nods and gestures to Garth.

“I felt like the best plan would be to use a decoy that looks enough like Ashby that it will lure his father and his men from hiding, and then we can attack,” Garth says, pulling out a file filled with pictures of different men. They all have blond curls, pale skin and short, thin builds.

“They don't look anything like Ashby,” I snap, and Dad huffs, the sound full of irritation.

“They aren't meant to be an exact match, Storm. We just need them to look enough like him that it will get his dad out of hiding. By the time he gets close enough to realize it's not Ashby, it will be too late.”

“Fine. Let me see those, and we can find our guy and get started planning,” I say, reaching for the file.

We all decide on the best match after nearly thirty minutes of debate. My father had one suggestion Garth agreed was best, but Elio was on my side with the lookalike I chose. In the end, it was decided that since I knew Ashby best, we would go with my choice. None of them were as perfect as my Sunshine, but no one would realize they’d been set up until they were too close to back out.

“I am going to wake Ashby so he can get ready, then we can head to the park.” I rise from my seat and head for the door.

“I thought you told him he wouldn't be going to the drop,” Dad says before I leave.

“There is no way he would agree to stay behind, and I'd rather have him within my sight so I can keep an eye on him than here while all our best men are gone.”

The halls are quiet as I wind through the massive house, but I can hear chatting as I get closer to our rooms. I knew Marry would take her chance to talk to Ashby, and I catch the last of their conversation.

“…and I need to trust you to make your own decisions,” Marry says.

“Thank you,” Ashby responds. “I love you, Mom.”

Marry’s next words are muffled, and I can just picture them holding each other tightly. I lean against the hallway wall, letting them finish, and a few minutes later, Marry emerges from the room. She smiles at me as she passes, placing a soft kiss on my cheek and patting my shoulder.

“You treat my boy right, Storm. He deserves the best,” she says softly, and I smile at her.

“I will. You don't ever have to worry about that.”

“I'm coming to see just how true that is. Thank you. You two be safe.”

I turn and head into the room, finding Ashby sitting on a chair beside the bed, staring out the window.

“It sounded like that went well,” I say, and Ashby flinches slightly, not having heard me enter.

“It did. It was hard, but she needed to hear all those things,” he says and turns towards me. “Did you guys learn anything?”

“Yeah, Drexel Hawthorn, the leader of a gang that deals with drugs and prostitution, is helping your father. That's likely where he is getting the men and money to fuel this,” I explain. “Everything is ready to go. If you promise not to leave the car, you can come to the drop with me and watch from the safety of the parking lot.”

He perks up in his seat instantly, eyes bright. “I promise.”

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