Page 106 of Tied to You
He looks at me before continuing. “It’s now or never, Matt.”
“It’s Matthew.” He sniffs, spinning on his heels looking back at the house.
I exchange a look with Dean. He frowns. It’s murderous.
“Matthew,” I say harshly.
He turns to look at Dean then his eyes land on mine.
“When can we expect your first order?”
He looks at the house again. “Like I told you earlier. I’ll be staying withmydealer.”
Dean laughs now, wiping his bottom lip. “Yourdealer won’t be dealing for much longer. Why do you think everyone’s jumping ship?”
He looks between us both. “Maybe it’s because you’re going around intimidating people to work with you.”
Dean smirks pulling out his smokes casually. “There’s no need to be intimidated by me, Matt.”
Matthew’s eyes begin another nervous look around.“I’m not. You’re just thugs. Only real men intimidate me.”
Mop and I are too late to react when Dean grabs Matthew by the scruff of the neck and begins walking him to the large house.
I’m off my bike as quick as I can get myself up, taking off my helmet and dropping it on my saddle before following them. Dean’s still smoking, like it’s no big deal he has this prick in his other hand.
“What are you doing?” Matthew shouts, his feet scrambling to keep up with Dean’s pace.
“I’m going to show you what realthugscan do.”
“Wait!”
“No can do, Matt,” I say following behind, enjoying seeing him like this.
Matthew’s dragged into the house, the main door flinging open when we make him unlock it. No one comes to the door, but given how he was so scatty earlier, my guess is someone is here somewhere or he’s expecting someone.
“No asking nicely this time.”
Mollie was right. He pushed the wrong buttons earlier, failing to see who he’s dealing with. Money or not, a bullet to the head is a bullet to the head. No coming back from that. Judging by the look on Dean’s face, Matthew’s close to that outcome.
Dean looks around the vast space before us. Seeing a door to our left, he drags Matthew inside, throwing him to the table which is in the middle of the room. Matthew hits it with a thud, and from out of his pocket, a small white packet lands on the floor.
Jackpot.
“Guard the door,” I instruct Mop, bending down to pick it up. I pop it open, dabbing my little finger inside before tasting it. The bitterness on my tongue indicates this isn’t from Elvis’ suppliers at all. This is new. I pour it out into a mound by his face which Dean conveniently has pressed to the wood. I click my teeth. “Looks like we have a problem on two fronts,” I begin.
Matthew fidgets nervously whilst Dean looks on.
“This isn’t fromyourbuyer, is it, Matt?”
He grimaces, Dean’s hold on him tightening. “Of course it is.”
“No. Don’t lie to us, Matt. We came here to make you a generous offer, and all you’re doing is shitting all over it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shakes his arms now being held behind him.
I lean in closer, perhaps a little menacingly, putting my hand on the back of his head. I’ll entertain his pathetic excuse for only a moment because the thrill of what I’m about to do is overriding. “Fine.” I push his nose into the power, giving him no choice but to breathe it in. The satisfaction of hearing him choking for air is beautiful. “You got no choice here. You buy from The King now.”
“Fuck you,” he splutters in between gagging.
