Page 21 of A Life Chosen

“You got that?” he asked Rayan.

His second nodded and let Waith go. Unable to stand on his shattered foot, Waith dropped to the ground with a yelp. Rayan walked past him into the workshop while Mathias lit a cigarette and squinted up at the sky. The sun was barely visible through the dense blanket of cloud.

Junior appeared at his side like a dog. “Can I have a swing at him?”

Mathias shook his head. It was pathetic, the glint in his eyes. A kid brought up on senseless violence. He’d seen so many pass through the ranks. They were always messy and inefficient, getting off on the bloodlust rather than using it as a tool. Violence was an art form. Used well, it could make even the most rigid man compliant.

They waited in silence, Junior kicking at the muddy ground, aiming for Waith’s crumpled form. Not for the first time, Mathias resisted the urge to strike the boy. He’d seen the likes of him before in the easy self-assurance of his half brothers.

His second emerged with an envelope in one hand and a clump of purchase books in the other. He stopped beside Mathias, taking in Silvano’s antics.

“There’s two in cash and another three in prepaid parts,” Rayan said quietly in French, aware of Waith’s fearful gaze. “Barely covers the first month.”

Mathias sighed. It seemed nothing was going smoothly this morning. “Heads up, kid.”

Junior looked up expectantly as Mathias tossed him the crowbar.Might as well get some use out of the jumpy fuck.

“Have at it.”

“Hey,estraneo.” A hand shot out, grabbed Rayan’s shoulder, and yanked him around in the narrow corridor of the Collections office.

Mathias had released Rayan from his duties and disappeared into Tony’s office for one of their strategic meetings. He’d been on his way out, quietly happy to have the rest of the afternoon to himself. After almost a year, Rayan was still getting used to life working for the family. The late nights and strange hours of his time at Guillet’s remained fresh, having formed a deep groove.

Franco’s second, Mikey, stood leering at him, fair headed with a bulbous nose. In the few months Rayan had spent driving for Franco, the man had never treated him like anything but shit. Beside Mikey was Paolo, the thickset kid who’d replaced Rayan after he’d been reassigned as Mathias’s second.

“The fuck you pulling? One minute you’re some burnout on loan. Now you’re shadowing Beauvais?”

Rayan had drawn the ire of many after his capo took him on. As surprised as he’d been to be working with Mathias, there were those within the division who were even more so—men who’d barely known he existed until they felt threatened by the possibility that he’d wormed his way to their level. Rayan didn’t have much to dowith Franco’s jurisdiction. He handled protection money, something his capo had done when their paths first crossed.

“You know outsiders can’t get made,” Mikey spat. “It’s a goddamn disgrace they kept you on.”

Rayan said nothing. Speaking would only give them more ammunition. Mikey was right in all respects—Rayan certainly didn’t belong in their ranks. He himself didn’t know why Mathias had decided to keep him on. He felt no more worthy of his position than they thought he was.

“That’s right—you’re a quiet little shit. Not too keen on English either.Es-tu un crétin?” Mikey dragged out each syllable as though speaking to an imbecile.

Tired of the exchange, Rayan turned and continued down the hall.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Mikey hollered.

Rayan felt Mikey’s hand on his shoulder once again, and this time, he swiveled and smashed a fist into that giant nose. The man let out a howl, his hands flying to his face, as Paolo launched himself at Rayan, his tacky signet ring catching him on the temple, breaking the skin. Rayan countered with a knee to the guts, sending the kid sprawling against the wall.

Mikey, blood streaming down his face, had regained some of his composure and was coming at him with heavy, clumsy swings, which Rayan dodged, getting close enough to him to clamp him in a headlock. Right when Paolo was about to slam his knuckles into Rayan’s exposed ribs, the door at the end of the corridor flew open, and Tony stepped into the hallway.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Rayan released Mikey and stepped back, blinking away a drop of blood that trailed down from the cut on his forehead.

Mikey held his face protectively. “Fucker broke my nose!”

“Did he, now?” Tony said glibly. “You starting something, Mikey?”

“No. The guy’s a psycho. Tell Beauvais to leash his dog.”

“Tell him yourself.”

Mikey looked past Tony to where Mathias stood just out of view. He stiffened. “Uh, no offense. I was just minding my business. Kid doesn’t know how to stay in line.”

“I find out you’re making trouble where it’s not needed, I’ll make it my business,” Mathias replied, his voice low. “Understood?”

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