Page 27 of Hateful Union

Shit, my family's wondering where I am. The texts start off asking if I'm okay, they soon go from concerned to worried, to pissed, then back to worried again. I really screwed up, I should have at least told one of them that I wouldn’t be coming home.

I quickly make a hasty exit from Malcolm's apartment. Needing to get away, not wanting to see him when he wakes up. This can never happen again. What happened last night. It was a one off, just as he said.

If my family ever found out what happened between us, there would be war.

11

Malcolm

“Jesus. Why the hell are you in such a bad mood? For someone who got laid last night, I thought you'd have a much cheerier disposition,” Christian says with a smirk.

Mother of fuck. I just want to knock his teeth down the back of his throat.

I woke up this morning to find Raylee gone. I don't know why that pisses me off, it shouldn't. I have no claim to that woman. All she does is infuriate me. But yeah, waking up and finding her gone. Something in my gut tightened, my chest ached, and I felt a sense of loss wash over me. I hate that there’s nothing I can do.

“Leave it alone,” I say through clenched teeth. I don’t want to discuss what happened last night with anyone. All I want to do is crawl back into bed with Raylee beside me, hell underneath or on top of me. I wouldn’t care I just want to fuck her senseless yet again. Of course this crazy woman was right and once would not be enough. Hell, one full night wasn't enough. I think I passed out around 6am. My body was completely spent after fucking her all night.

“Whatever you say, boss,” he replies, still smirking. The arsehole.

“What did you find out about last night?” I demand

My teeth clench at the thought of some dickhead trying to kill Raylee, There's no doubt about it. That motherfucker on the motorcycle was aiming for her. Lucky enough I pushed her out of the way. God knows what would have happened if I hadn't got there in time. No—not thinking about it, I can't think about it.

“So we followed him to the airport. As soon as he went inside, we lost him. Obviously, he was doing the job and getting the fuck out of town,” he informs me, his lips thinned, pissed that the man escaped.

This entire thing makes no sense to me, surely he'd want to be paid? But then again he didn't do the job properly. He didn't kill her. So many scenarios running around my head, I don't like it one bit. But the fact of the matter is, he didn’t finish the job, Raylee is still alive. It just means that she’s not safe.

“What about her brother?” I ask, remembering him telling me before I left that he was going to get the men to pick up Francis.

I want to know who shot up my club, and there's only one dickhead in town that has the balls to go head-to-head with me. And that's the motherfucking Silvers. Right now I need to target the weakest of the pack. I thought that was Raylee. God was I wrong. That woman is strong, resilient, and beautiful.

I have to go for the one that is weak. And out of the brothers, it is Francis.

“Yeah, we have him,” Christian tells me. “He's currently sitting at the old hangar. There’re three men on him.” I nod, that’s good.

He tilts his head slightly and continues. “It won't be long until the Silvers realise he’s gone. We won't have much time.”

“I know,” I reply as I climb into the passenger side of the car as Christian gets into the driver’s seat.

The hangar is situated in a small derelict airport, miles outside of the city, that’s not been used for over a decade. Lucky for us, I know a friend of a friend who could help us. The hangar is a great place to talk. It’s off grid, and we can't be overheard because it's close enough to the new airport that the planes make it a bit tough for anyone listening.

“Have you questioned him?” I ask Christian as he drives.

“Not yet. Boss, he demands to know what we want. That we’re going to die. That he's gonna kill us. Asking do we know who is father is blah blah de blah blah blah. The usual shit. No one gives a fuck about his father.

I roll my eyes. Always the bloody same with the arseholes.

“But when it was mentioned that the club was shot in a drive-by he looked genuinely surprised. So either he's a great actor. Or he had no idea, which means that he is being left out of the Silver business.” He nods to himself. “Which makes sense because he's a fucking idiot. And I wouldn't leave him alone with a fucking dog, let alone a business.”

I chuckle. He's right. I would not let any of the Silvers alone with the business. Not one of them knows how to run one. Maybe Wayne could lead them. Kiro and Jake, they're more muscle men—the brawn to Wayne's brains. Francis is next on and well he's useless. And then there is Bentley. That man is an enigma. He's smart and strong. He'd be a great enforcer, but he's also very stupid and is in trouble more often than not; he can't control his impulses, and that's a very dangerous thing for a man like him. To be in the business that he and his family are in, one wrong move would send him to prison. He's got so much on his rap sheet already it’s a wonder he's not already behind bars. But then, good old Daddy will pay his way and get him out.

It’s not long before we reach the hangar. As I walk inside, Francis lifts his head and sits forwards. He's not marred, bruised, or hurt in any way, shape, or form. I'm not stupid. My men are not stupid. He will be returned in the exact same form as when we took him. Sending him back without being hurt will fuck with the Silvers. It will let them know that we can play with them, we can get to them at any stage we want and we will leave them guessing as to what we can do to them.

For Francis his time isn't up yet. He's here to give me the information that I need.

“You,” he spits. “What the fuck do you want?”

I shake my head at the utter disrespect from this little prick. “I want to know why your family shot up my club.” My stance is neutral, my hands hanging loosely by my side, but the gleam in my eye promises retribution.

---