Page 132 of Devious Kingpin
“I know exactly where you are, then. Thanks.” I hung up just as the elevator opened. I rushed through the crowded lobby and exited onto the sidewalk of the busy Chicago street.
“Taxi!” A businessman flagged a cab that came to a screeching stop and I rushed to it.
“I’m so sorry, but I have to steal your cab.” I shot him an apologetic look. “I have to get to a mental hospital or there’ll be hell to pay.” Then I smiled sweetly and added, “You’re more than welcome to join.”
The look he gave me was clear. He’d rather walk to the ends of the earth than share a cab with me. I shrugged and slid into the cab.
“Tinley Park State Mental Hospital,” I said to the cab driver. His gaze flickered to the rearview mirror, probably ready to tell me to get out of his car.
“It’s closed.”
“I know. But I need to get there. Fast. I’ll pay you triple.”
That got him going. The problem? I didn’t have any money on me. Nor a credit card.
Shit!
“Do you take Apple pay?” I asked casually as I scrolled through my phone.
“No.”
Okay, Dante would pay the man once we got to the asylum. Or Basilio.
Worst came to worst, I’d ask Kian to front me some money.
CHAPTER53
Dante
“An abandoned mental asylum,” I muttered, thinking how fucking appropriate it was.
And creepy.
We left the city limits about twenty minutes or so ago and followed Kian’s directions. I started to wonder whether he fucked up. There were abandoned and boarded-up houses along the road to get to this building.
We pulled up into an open area. A water fountain stood crooked in front of the entrance, hanging on for dear life. Kian was already there waiting for us.
“I guess he came with reinforcements,” Basilio noted. “Who is he?”
I studied the guy next to Kian. They were both about the same height, but they looked nothing alike.
“Maybe he works for Kian,” I remarked. “Although he looks familiar.”
I was good with faces and I was certain I had seen this guy’s face before. Then it hit me. “BlackHawk SF,” I declared.
Basilio raised his eyebrow. “I don’t think the military would take you. Our track record isn’t desirable for clean-cut military guys.”
“Kian’s guy,” I said, ignoring his comment. “He’s one of the three guys that run BlackHawk SF Security.”
Basilio’s gaze shifted critically over Kian’s right-hand man. “Are you sure?” He sounded dubious. “The name suggests ex-military and this guy… That hair isn’t exactly a military cut. Did you ask him what’s up with it?”
I scoffed. “Maybe he got tired of buzz cuts and decided to grow out his hair.” Although he had a point. Most veterans kept their hair military-style even after they finished their service. “Why in the fuck would I ask him about his haircut preferences?”
Sometimes my cousin was a dick. Priest was more of the quiet guy, and at this moment, I wished he were here instead.
I parked next to Kian and his guy before jumping out of the car. Unbuttoning my suit jacket, I checked my gun, ensuring it was accessible.
“Kian,” I said in greeting. Sometimes I wondered what his endgame was. It was hard to tell. He never divulged any information about himself.
