Page 110 of Crush

A silence stretched and I could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to place the name. He then shot me a faintly sinister smile.

“It sounds vaguely familiar.ShouldI know him?” he questioned, pushing forward, and placing his elbows on the desk. It was one of those that had green leather attached to the surface, not so dissimilar to the one in Jonathan Swift’s study. Amber’s beautiful face swam into my thoughts. Get a grip, Hunter!

I kept the word sociopath to myself and went for, “He’s in your line of work although he may not move in the same circles,” I informed him, not thinking that I would upset him with that comment, but his temper flared further.

“And just what is my line of work, shithead?”

“Whatever it is you and your gang peddle,” I replied wishing I had bigger balls. I should have just said mafia.

“My gang? I’m not in a gang, you ignorantdick. Where are we, high school?”

I must admit, I never allowed anyone to call me names, but I bit my tongue and carried the hell on.

“Look, Harker used to work for one of the gangs—sorry—mob families based here in London. He’s been inside for thelast six years—well, five years and nine months to be exact. He was put away on a kidnapping charge and some other crap they managed to pin on him. He’s free now and I need someone with some weight to have a word with him and get him to back the hell off. I need protection. At least, I need protection for the one he kidnapped.”

“And why inhellwould I help you?” Fuck, just the way he said hell would make most men cower.

“He’s a borderline kiddie fiddler. The female he took was only a child at the time. I heard that you don’t condone that type of shit?” I hammed it up forobvious reasons. Gabriel had said that even Gerard had never involved himself with sex trafficking or anything affecting women and kids.

“I despise such people as I am sure you are aware. But why would I help you?”

“Because I’d owe you a debt and I always pay my debts.”

His expression switched to one of being bored again and I knew I was running out of time. Thankfully, after a brief silence, he said, “I’m listening.”

“If you help to warn the fucker, give us your protection, I can help to expand your operations.”

The look he gave me was almost revolted, like I’d just told him his grandmother liked to take it up the arse, “How thefuckcanyoudo that?”

Forget having a stick shoved up his arse, it was more like he had an entire tree up there. Was the guyeverhappy? He had a type of smile but it was like something sick had created his joy. Kinlan’s current stare could have melted steel.

“Look, I own a construction company and have some empty warehouses close to the docks near Deptford Wharf. I had intended on selling the land as my application to demolish the warehouses and build a hotel there was declined but…” my voice trailed off.

Kinlan arched an eyebrow, “But?”

“I would sell them to you for half of their value. In payment for your protection.”

He snorted and made a dismissive gesture with one hand, “Halftheir value? Surely you should transfer them over to me for free?”

“I may be desperate but I’m still a businessman,” I informed him tartly.

“That may be so but why thehellwould I want a bunch of rotting warehouses in the arse end of nowhere anyway?”

I leaned forward and placed my hands on his desk. “Because they are on the waterfront with access to the Thames but with a more clandestine route acrossthe water. It’s where the old shipyards used to be. That section of the Thames isn’t policed as much. That would enable you to move your product or whatever the hell you do with less attention from the coastguards.”

Kinlan sniggered and lowered his hands to place them flat against the surface of his desk, mirroring my stance, “I think you’ve been listening to too many mafioso stories my friend. Product? What product? I’m not a fucking drug dealer.”

Mafia stories indeed. I imagined this guy had a ton of stories to tell; ones where you wouldn’t want to be a character in any of them.

Exhaling, I made another attempt to get him on-side, “Look, I don’t give a shit what you are or what you ship. My point is you could store whatever you want there and there is less chance of it being raided. Once I signed the buildings over, I would walk away and you’d never hear from me again. I wouldn’t have anything to do with what you do; I’d leave you to it. My point is that the area is off the grid, well as much as it can be in London.”

Kinlan drew one of the laptops towards him and opened it. “So, you say you want my help. And you want me to warn this man with a bullet? Have him iced or just a little chat?”

“Have him iced?”

“Yes. That affects the price you understand?” He shot me a brief look before turning away and logging onto his laptop.

I found it amusing that he attempted to appear like a regular businessman and criticised me for listening to too many mafia stories, yet he’d just used the word, iced.

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