11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

I get to the coffee shop fifteen minutes early. My phone rings just before I walk inside, and when I see it's Banks, I answer it.

"Got the info you need. Emailing it now."

"Thanks," I say. "Is it anything good?"

"Seems pretty basic to me. Though, there wasn't much, which is odd."

"Odd how? Isn't less info better?"

"Not necessarily. I usually get stuff like bills, debt, prior addresses. When it's as clean as this, usually means they've changed names or some shit."

"But you couldn't find any?"

"Not yet. If I do, I'll let you know."

I thank him again and we get off the phone. Xan is reaching the door when I put my phone in my pocket, so I save checking my email for later.

"You good?" I ask when I reach him.

He pulls open the door for me and I step in.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asks.

I shake my head, not wanting to share that I could have been followed and maybe he was too. Something about the Piano Man, the mysterious SE, doesn't have me concerned about it. Whatever he finds out about me, I don't think he'll care. Won't use it against me. He's too good for that. If he wanted to blackmail me, he has the means to do it. He can find out anything he wants about me, so what's the point in fighting it? Maybe the closer he gets to me, the closer I'll get to him. Maybe the more I leave myself wide open, the cockier he'll get. I can swoop in easily because he thinks I'm stupid. I'll let him believe he's got one up on me, while it's really the other way around. I do wonder how he's so capable of finding this information though. He must know people. But I know people too.

Aside from all of that, I don't want Xander knowing I'm messing with this guy. He'll go into overprotective mode and try putting protection on me, and that is not something I am going to deal with. Xander treats me like a baby. Acts like because he's some big hot shot FBI agent, what he knows is best. He refuses to agree that what I do is much more dangerous, meaning I'm more skilled than he is. It's ignorance at its best, if you ask me.

"Just making sure," I say as we find a table toward the back.

"You want your usual?" he asks, digging into his pocket for his wallet. He's wearing his typical navy-blue slacks and white button up.

"Yeah but add two shots of espresso." He raises a brow in question. "It was a long night."

He nods suspiciously but goes to the counter as I take a seat. He returns a few minutes later with a cup of coffee in each hand. He slides me mine and sits across from me. I glance out the window, wondering if he is watching. There are brick buildings across the street. Storefronts along the bottom with apartments on top. He could be there. In any one of them. Watching with a telescope. Binoculars. A bolt-action rifle scope, maybe. The man isn't one who could hide in plain sight. A hat and sunglasses wouldn't hide him. He's way too big.

"Are you okay?" Xan asks carefully.

"Tired." I sip my coffee, ignoring the fact it's way too fucking hot. I'll risk third degree burns to my throat to wake the fuck up. Doubt the coffee is going to help but it's worth a shot. It's the goddamn drugs this fucker is using on me that mess me up for days. "Why am I here?"

"Your brother got himself into some shit."

I sigh. "You called me here for Jackson? Why is that my problem? You know we don't talk."

"Not shit on my end. On yours," he says, giving me a look like I shouldn't question him.

"Not following." Another sip of hot lava. At least it tastes good.

"He messed with the wrong people. They're pissed."

"What does it have to do with me?" I didn't realize I was in a bad mood until I got here. Or maybe I'm just not in the mood to deal with Xander and his pushy bullshit.

Xan stares at me as if I should know the answer. As if it's obvious.

He scoffs and says, "Did you forget you look alike? That you're family? And no one gives a fuck if you talk or not?"

I smile, pressing my palm to my chest. "Aw, you're worried about me?"

"Don't be stupid, Justin. These people are ruthless. You know better than I do."

I shake my head and take the top off my coffee to help it cool down. The sooner I can gulp it, the better.

"Which is why I'm not worried. Whatever Jackson got himself messed up in is his problem. I can handle myself." I take a sip, grateful when it doesn't scorch my tongue. "What did he do?" I ask purely out of curiosity and not because I care.

Xan sighs, rubbing his forehead. "You really want to know?"

"Yes."

Most people don't want to hear the fucked-up things their family members do so it's easier to ignore. Blind eye and all. Me? I want all the fucked-up shit Jackson does because the more reason I have to hate him, the better. I was born with this stupid thing called compassion, and it's a pain in my fucking ass. The more ammo I have to fight it, the easier it is on me. My brother is not a good person, never has been. He tried for a long time, but the darkness consumed him and there is no coming back from it. I've seen it with my own eyes. The first time I saw what he was capable of, I couldn't believe it. Then it happened again and again, and soon enough, I didn't have a choice but to accept what my brother was. Evil. Yet parts of me still try to see the good in him anyway. I need constant reminders of why he's scum. New and fresh reminders, so my brain doesn't trick me into thinking what I saw was fake.

My phone rings when Xan opens his mouth. Reese's name flashes on my screen, but I mute it, and gesture for Xan to keep going. I'll call Reese later.

"Kidnapped a mafia princess, raped her, and killed her. She was sixteen."

I stare blank-faced at him. It isn't shock that gets me, it's anger. Embarrassment. How am I related to this piece of shit? "Why?"

He grinds his molars, looking out the window. "Because someone dared him to," he says simply.

How the fuck did we share a womb?

"There's a reward out for him," Xan adds.

That's new.

"Your world or mine?" I ask, taking a long sip.

He huffs out a laugh. "Mine. But I bet if you ask the right people, they'd pay nicely for his head. So if you see your brother, you—"

"I won't."

"I'm just saying, Justin, that if you do, let me know."

"Fine. I will. But don't bank on it. I haven't seen him since the fiasco with Lawrence Glassi and Ezriel Dreyer's girl."

Which was over five years ago. Jackson and I were both working for Glassi. I was doing it to spy for our uncle, while Jackson was doing it because there was a never-ending flow of girls, considering Glassi was into sex trafficking. It was the worst fucking thing I ever had to do. Staying in that house with those girls, knowing what was going to happen to them? It wasn't easy. But it paid off. Because Glassi is now dead. The girls are free and well taken care of.

I focus on my coffee. Should have had Xan grab me two. Food too. I'm fucking starving.

"The family he fucked with is powerful, Justin. Just watch your back, okay?"

"Don't worry about me, Xan. Worry about getting people like Jackson off the street. I'll do the same."

He rolls his eyes. "You find what you need about that Piano Man?"

I shake my head. "Still working on it. You?"

"Nothing new."

Here I go again with another idea. I wonder if ketamine is good for brain power or some shit.

The Piano Man is clearly good at hunting people down. Finding people. Being silent about it. Not getting caught. What if I can get him to find Jackson? Hand him over to Xan for that reward too? Does the Piano Man take jobs? If he does, it has nothing to do with the murders that have given him his name. Those jobs aren't jobs. They're personal. You can tell by the emotion he puts into doing what he's doing.

"What's the reward for Jackson?" I casually ask.

"Half a mil, which isn't worth getting yourself killed over." He accentuates the last part of the sentence, letting me know he doesn't approve of me going after my brother.

So, he only approves of me ratting him out and handing him over so he can get the reward? It's not that I'd be able to do it myself and claim the reward anyway. It doesn't work that way. It's internal, meaning I'd get whatever Xan gives me. We work together like that. Honestly, I'm just fucking tired of it. Tired of working with other people. Doing what they want. I want to do what I want, when I want.

"Why so much?"

He sighs again. "Let's just say someone on the inside has a special interest in the matter and has enough pull to make it happen."

"Nice bonus."

"I'd split it with you."

I'd barely get any of that if the Piano Man did take the job. He'd probably want every penny of it. Maybe more. Not worth my pride, that's for sure. It's best I don't involve myself with Jackson in any way. I'll get nothing out of it.

I glance out the window and a glint of something catches my eye from the building across the street. Fourth floor, few windows to the right. The glint of a scope.

Holy shit. I think I got him.

Did he really make it so easy? Or am I catching on to his methods quicker than I thought?

Maybe I'm batshit crazy and seeing things.

I stand abruptly, causing Xan to frown. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

I hurry out of the shop, Xan calling after me. I ignore him and cross the busy street, almost getting hit by a red Toyota in the process. The driver honks and shouts at me, but I ignore him too, keeping my gaze on the window, trying to figure out what building it's part of. They're all connected on the outside, but each has their own door to enter and probably aren't connected anywhere inside, except maybe an emergency door that'll take too much time to search for.

I take a guess, push through the door, and run up the stairs to the fourth floor. I'm panting when I reach the top, taking a look around. With another guess, I turn to the left and stop at the second apartment door.

I bang on it and when no one opens it, I shoulder inside, the sound echoing around the empty apartment. There isn't even furniture here.

"Should've tried the knob. It wasn't locked."

I whip my head to the left to find him there. Leaning against a wall inside the small kitchen, as if he was waiting for me. If he was watching me, he saw me burst out the door and run this way. Yet, he didn't leave. So, I guess he was waiting for me.

"Thought you said I wouldn't get one up on you?"

He smirks, crossing his arms over his large chest. His hair is up today. I like it better when it's down. He's dressed in all black again.

"You didn't."

"I saw you watching me." I point to the window. "I found you."

"You found me because I wanted you to. Do you not understand Morse code?"

"Morse code?" I ask in disbelief.

He nods. "I was trying to tell you that you were being watched." He jerks his head toward the window. "Car down the street was watching the both of you. Black Town Car."

I hold his gaze, and he jerks his head toward the window again, giving me a go ahead and see for yourself look.

"You're lying," I say through clenched teeth.

"I don't lie."

"Why the fuck would you care about warning me?"

"Don't want this game to end prematurely. I like when it lasts." I don't miss the sexual undertone in that comment. Or maybe I made it up. The hell is wrong with me?

My feet stay rooted to the floor. When he pushes off the wall and moves to stand in front of me, I still can't move.

"I'm someone you want on your side, so you should reconsider the bounty on me." We've never stood toe to toe like this before. Somehow, he seems so much bigger. He's got a few inches on me in height, but his body is huge. "There are people after you and you don't even fucking know it."

"I'm aware there are people after me," I spit out.

Which isn't entirely the truth. It crossed my mind because of what that letter said, but I assumed I'd have more time. Didn't think they'd find me so quickly. Especially since I don't even know who they are. I'll have to pay Banks to do more digging.

"Because your little FBI friend told you? He has no clue about these guys. How's your ribs?"

He reaches for my shirt, but I slap his hand away.

"You've ruined enough of my shirts," I snap.

"We've got a lot of letters left," he says smugly.

I step close to him, getting chest to chest. I feel the pounding of his heart against mine. "If you think you'll get another letter into my skin, you're sadly fucking mistaken."

"Your attitude really makes my cock hard, little birdy. So unless that's your intention, I suggest you lose it."

I smile at him. Not kind, but cruel. "You're fucking nuts."

I step away from him before I do something stupid. Like get closer like my body wanted to do.

"Never claimed not to be," he calls as I walk out the door and down the hall. I hurry down the stairs and spot the car he mentioned immediately. I move toward it but as soon as I get within fifteen feet, it takes off. The windows are tinted so I don't get a look inside, and there isn't a license plate on it. Fucking convenient.

I glance up at the window of the apartment where I was just talking to the Piano Man, and I see him lingering there, giving me the peace sign.

The guy is a fucking nut case.