Page 32 of Twisted

Jaeger’d done his share of reckless things. He’d skydived, rode his bike like a bat out of hell, drank himself into stupors. But this…making a mistake of this magnitude and having to face the man everyone called El Diablo…he wasn’t sure he’d live to see another day.

“What’s his real name?” Jaeger asked Rancho as they walked down the hall. They were in a tower on the strip, one Jaeger didn’t care to find out the name of, seeing as he was pretty sure he was about to be gutted. Vegas was all a blur to him at this point. All he knew was his boss was lethal and wealthy and powerful. Not many that entered into meetings with him left alive.

Rancho snorted and shook his head.

“Let him tell ya, kid.”

The mystery behind the man deepened.

They paused outside a set of doors, all black, as though this were the portal into hell itself. Jaeger was not a man who became nervous—but here and now, he was sweating like a turkey before Thanksgiving. Rancho shot him a look as the doors opened, and Jaeger caught his sadistic smirk before they were welcomed inside.

The space was wide and decorated as any penthouse suite in Vegas would be; gaudy, over the top, gold and decadent. It was whatwasn’tthere that surprised Jaeger. No girls in skimpy clothes, no big burly body guards with rifles. Just a lone man sitting at his desk, scratching something down. Next to his unoccupied hand was a glass of what seemed to be an old fashioned, an orange and a cigar box next to it.

The man—his boss—was everything Jaeger had never anticipated, but he somehow rivaled his sinful nickname. Even seated, he could tell this beast was likely close to six and a half feet tall, with a thickly muscled torso to compliment his gargantuan frame. He had dark features; black hair, styled casually, short on the sides, scruff along his jaw, and he was young, maybe pushing thirty at best. He wore a black suit—from head to toe, his jacket draped over the back of his chair.

“This the one?” The man spoke, his voice deep but smooth as Tennessee whiskey. Rancho snorted, meandering forward to the chair in front of the desk and plopping down, casual as could be, as though he consorted with the devil daily. Jaeger figured he probably did.

“You mean the shithead I had to bail out?” Rancho mocked, jutting his thumb back to Jaeger. The man made no move other than to finish his writing with a flourish and push the paper off to the side. Dragging his eyes up to meet Jaeger’s, his boss remained stoic as ever, even harder to read than Rancho had been. Steepling his fingers, he narrowed his eyes at Jaeger.

“I hear you’re excellent in the field, but that you have a knack for…trouble?”

Jaeger cleared his throat, glancing at his friend before he took a step forward, squaring his shoulders.

“I—”

The man held up his hand, and in his nearly black eyes, there was something lurking that Jaeger couldn’t pin down.

“I don’t deal with childish outbursts, Mr. Duke. I know you well enough, I know your family better. If we must clean up another one of your messes…”

The threat was there, hanging in the air, a palpable thing with its own fetid heartbeat. Jaeger felt his blood turn to ice as the man stared him down. He was the single most terrifying person he’d ever met—and in that moment, Jaeger wanted nothing more than to be just like him, a kid idolizing their favorite basketball player.

Jaeger nodded, eager to please a man of such unequivocal power.

“Good. I’d hate to lose someone as promising as you. I will not give you another chance,” the man said, voice lowering at the end. Again, Jaeger bobbed his head. He truly was in the presence of El Diablo—the Devil.

“You may go. I hope to meet you again on better terms, Mr. Duke.”

“You will, sir.”

His boss’s eyes snapped back up, and Jaeger could still see something there, something pacing, but he only responded with a curt nod. Plucking his fountain pen from his desktop, the man pulled over a new piece of paper and began to scribble on it. Jaeger wondered if it was a dismissal, but Rancho sat forward, elbows on knees, keen eyes on the dominating man before them. The man spoke, voice soft and quiet.

“Did you find her?”

“Last week.”

Their boss nodded. Their words were muted, but Jaeger would never know of whom they spoke.

“And how’s she doing?”

“Going to every outlet for help.”

“You’ve put a stop to that, I presume?”

Rancho nodded.

“No one will get in your way.”

“Good,” the man said, his voice dropping lower, a maniacal edge to it. Whatever they were speaking of, it made Jaeger’s spine prickle. This man got everything he desired, and it piqued Jaeger’s curiosity.

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