Page 62 of Up in Flames

After a short drive, I make my way through the usual safeguards of the parlor, wherethe room smells of cigars and booze. Looking around, the men are lusting after power and greed. It seeps through their veins like frenzied sharks waiting to attack their prey. Their desire is for blood as if it spills on the earth like water, and there’s something powerful and appealing in that. It makes the devil inside me sing, but sometimes, this devil lives in his own personal hell.

Swallowing hard, I look over at Trap sitting at his usual place at the bar, drinking the night away. I shake my head at his tolerance for alcohol as my feet pound the floor over to him.

I shift my weight onto the stool beside him, and he glances up to look at me with a stifled laugh. “The prodigal son returns. Oh, how we’ve missed thee.” He sneers.

“Fuck off. I haven’t been away for that long. And remember who you’re talking to.”

He nods and takes a deep breath. “Mmm… sure if you say so. Let’s catch you up then. After Rodberg’s meeting with Zorko’s men, Zorko decided that as an offer of compensation for Morgan, we could have the guy who shot him. Oh, and our deal is back on. But fuck, man, this Zorko crew is a shady bunch. They’re nothing but general thugs and heathens. The bastards are shifty. Not the general crew we consort with.”

Running my hand through my hair, I nod. “I hear you. We might need to do something about Zorko’s deals, but we will let it play out for now.”

Trap nods once, takes a large sip of amber liquid from his tumbler, then shifts his gaze to Kamara, a topless Bachelorette walking past. He looks her up and down and smirks. “She used to be one of your go-to’s, wasn’t she?” he asks.

I shrug. “She was.”

He snorts. “Kamara not doing it for you anymore?”

“Who I fuck is none of your business, Trap.”

He tilts his head and looks around the room at the other Bachelorettes. “Hmm… well, to me, I don’t see you fucking any of our women. So, if you’re not getting laid here, then maybe you’re getting pussy from outside the brotherhood. And now I am thinking, that’s why you’re not here anymore? Am I right?”

With that little statement, my stomach churns, and my muscles tense. My neck twitches as I look Trap dead in the eyes, glaring at him. “I’m not interested inanypussy. I have bigger fish to fry. I am sick of this bullshit. As I said, who I fuck is none of your motherfucking business, Trap.” I clear my throat and continue, “I’ve had enough of your inquisition. I’m going home. So deal with this shit on your own!” Standing abruptly from the stool, I turn and start heading out of the parlor with a sinking feeling in my gut.

“That’s it, Cain, run off to whatever secret you’re hiding,” Trap calls out, but I’m too rattled to turn back and defend myself or to beat the living shit out of him this time. So I simply keep walking out of the parlor to my Impala. My chest is heaving the entire way, thinking of Makaylie and the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Trap already knows about her.

I’m pretty sure I’m not targeted, being so high up.

But fuck, I might be.

You never know.

I have Bachelors followed to check on them all the time, and they have no idea.

What if I’m the same?

What if Boss has ordered it?

Paranoia starts to creep in, and the idea that any of these guys, other than Rodberg, knows about Makaylie is making me feel physically ill.

Opening my car door, I slide in and slam it shut. The darkness of the blackened night sky peers in through the windows, and I let it seep back into my soul where it should be. My dark heart needs a kickstart because I am getting soft.

I take off, the wheels spinning and turning up dust and pebbles in my frustration as I speed off, fishtailing it out of the gates.

I’m almost to the apartments, internally seething from the conversation with Trap, but I need to know what’s happening. Taking a centering breath, I yank out my cell and call Rodberg. Even though he’s under me, way under me, he might know something I don’t.

He may have heard whispers I can’t.

He’s friends with Bachelors, I am not.

“Cain, where the fuck are you?”

The roar of the engine vibrates through the car as I accelerate harder, putting my cell onto speaker and placing it on the passenger side as I continue to drive. “I was at the warehouse, but I’m heading back to River House now.”

“Did Trap tell you what Zorko has decided about the guy who shot Morgan?”

I pull into the parking garage of the apartments and park my car. Making my way up to Makaylie’s apartment, I take my cell off speaker and place it next to my ear.

“Sure did. That’s going to be fun. But Rodberg, I don’t want to talk about that right now. I need to know if there are whispers in the brotherhood about Makaylie?”

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