Chapter 37

JULY 28 – THURSDAY 11:40 PM

T heo

How the hell did I end up doing this? I never went with Myles when he collected for Lawrence. It was usually a soldier or Liam and Nash. I spent my mandatory hours in the office.

"What do you think he's trying to prove," I asked. Myles stopped eating the bag of chips he was devouring and looked at me.

"Who are ya talkin' about?"

"Lawrence. Why am I out here with you? What is the point of this? This isn't part of my normal duties. I mean, yes, I can fight and kill and have done both, but this seems…targeted."

Myles lifted the bag of chips to his mouth and dumped the crumbs before speaking. "Ya want my honest opinion?"

"I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't." I was supposed to be racing tonight, so my usual annoyance was enhanced to all new levels.

"I don't think it has anything to do with ya. It's to do with your da and the fact that Lawrence knows Ethan is not as get down and kiss the ring as he'd like." Myles pointed to a man stepping out of a bar and stumbling toward his car. "That's our mark."

The meeting Blake and I had interrupted came to mind as Myles started the truck and pulled out to follow the guy who definitely shouldn't be driving. He swerved into oncoming traffic and then back again.

"I need to tell you something," I said, and Myles looked over for a moment.

"Well, if that didn't sound fucking ominous, I don't know what does? Ya didn't get Ren pregnant, did ya? I'll pull over and beat ya til ya can't walk."

Brow furrowing, I shook my head at him. "Not everything is about Ren…well, actually, this is, but no, not that. And what if she wanted to have kids with me? What would you do then?" Not that I wanted kids, but Myles started the conversation, so now I was curious.

The muscles in his jaw twitched as he glared and then turned his eyes back to the road. "If it's what Snowflake wants, then I'll go along with it, but not happily."

"Well, you don't have to worry."

"Alright, then, what do ya have to say?"

We kept a dozen cars back but followed our target as he headed home. I already had the location pulled up on my GPS.

"Blake and I visited our mom to ask her a few questions." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "She's known who Ren's mom was all along."

"What?" His head whipped in my direction. "And she just kept it to herself?"

"She said that Yulianna asked her to keep it secret. My mom built her house. I recognized a bunch of the features and went looking for her logo. She always puts it on a beam in the basement."

"Shite…does Ren know?"

"No. I don't want to tell Ren. Without her mom and now Nadia, my mom is the last female Ren feels comfortable around. You know, like a mom figure. But there is more."

"Now, I'm not so sure I want to know. Yer gonna fuckin' ask me to keep this all quiet, aren't ya?" I didn't say anything. "Fuck mate, this is dangerous."

"I know, but I really don't know what to do with all of this. Liam is my sounding board, but he and I aren't exactly speaking much at the moment. I know that you'll do what's best for Ren."

"I thought ya were doing fine? I mean…you've been seeing a lot of him recently again."

"I said we aren't talking…doesn't mean we aren't doing other things."

"Ah…don't be tellin' me, I dinnie want to know." Myles turned onto a side street, pulled over, and cut the engine as our mark got out of his car. The guy almost fell over before stumbling to his front door.

"Nadia wasn't Ren's aunt." Myles's mouth fell open. "Her real name was Frida, and she was Yulianna's attendant. She ran with Yulianna. Ren's real name is, for sure, Lilya, and I'm a hundred percent positive that Neil is not her father. Also, I think my mom is still hiding something, but she basically kicked Blake and me out of her office. Lawrence was there when we arrived, and she looked shaken. I don't know what to do with this."

"Fuck. Are ya thinkin' Lawrence is on to yer mom knowin' or that she told him about Ren to begin with," Myles asked. I shook my head as I pulled on the black gloves. I hadn't even considered that she might have told someone.

"No, I don't see my mom giving Lawrence that kind of ammunition."

"Are ya sure?"

I glared at Myles. "Yes, I'm fucking sure. My mom was helping Yulianna and Ren. She wouldn't reveal them to Lawrence. She hates him as much as we all do. Are you trying to accuse my mom of something?"

"Naw man, just makin' sure yer thinking of all the possibilities. Isn't that my job as this soundin' board thing?" Myles smirked, and I wanted to hit him. He pulled out his gun and checked the chamber. I did the same but hoped things didn't end up going that far. "Look, no matter what, ya need to tell Nash. He's collecting all the information. I'll keep quiet for now, but Ren has been doing her own research, at least what she can from her laptop. All she needs is one of them murder boards with the string, and she would be set. She'll make the connection at some point. All it takes is one image, one write-up that mentions your mother's name in conjunction with her mother, and she'll flag it."

"Shit," I swore, hating that he was right. We could only protect her from the truth for so long before everything burst wide open. Any interaction could be what caused the first domino to fall. "Speaking of secrets…." Myles paused with his hand on the door. "Have you told Ren about your initiation on your birthday?" He cringed.

"Naw, and I'm waitin' til the last possible moment, so don't be going and tellin' her either. If yer making me keep your secret, ya need to keep mine."

"You do realize your birthday is thirteen days away? You don't have much time to prepare her for whatever you have to do."

"I'm not fucking talkin' about this right now." Myles got out and slammed the truck door.

"Well, I guess that conversation is done," I mumbled, putting my hood up and getting out to follow Myles down the sidewalk.

This street was mainly rental properties and the odd person milling about. It was the kind of neighborhood where they didn't mind your business if you didn't mind theirs. There was one light on and a flickering that announced a television. We walked up to the front door and saw the guy sitting in a recliner with a beer in his hand and his eyes closed.

Myles knocked, but he didn't move. He knocked again, and the guy still didn't move. "Looks like he is either dead or passed out."

"Hmm. I hate breakin' in, but…." He grabbed the handle and then looked at me and smiled as it turned. "Idiot forgot to lock the door. When we go in, close the drapes." I nodded, and he pushed the door open.

As soon as the stench of stale smoke and rotting food hit my nose, the reality of where we were and what we were doing hit. I didn't tend to get nervous or scared, but the adrenaline pumped harder through my veins.

I grabbed Myles's arm. "What if he's armed," I asked.

"Then shoot him," Myles answered as if it was obvious. Great.

Locking the front door, I pulled my gun and slipped past the sleeping man—who was snoring like a freight train—to close the drapes. Myles tipped his head toward the rest of the house, and I took off down the only hallway to see if anyone else was here. The info Lawrence had given us didn't say anything about a family, but you never knew for sure, and it was best to be safe. The house was small, with one disgusting bathroom—that the CDC should be inspecting for new viruses—and two bedrooms. The first was loaded with floor-to-ceiling boxes. The next one actually had a bed. My nose turned up at the sight of the white sheets with a distinct grey stain. This guy was disgusting. Walking back into the living room, I shook my head at Myles as he stood staring at the sleeping man.

His face had changed since the truck. It was like he was a whole new person. Cold and calculating, with darkness burning in his eyes that would make even Lawrence think twice. I'd seen him like this before. Axel most recently, but it was hard to wrap my head around the fact that Myles, the biggest jokester of us, lived with this buried beneath the surface. Picking up the remote, Myles turned up the television until it was blaring and then kicked the chair a few times. When the guy didn't do anything more than groan, Myles reached back and smacked him so hard that you could hear it over the laugh track of the late-night talk show.

With a startled yell, the guy came to and blinked his bloodshot eyes at Myles. His face blanched at the sight of him.

"Hello, Joshua." The man swallowed. "I told you I'd be back if ya didn't give Mr. Collier his money on time. I also said that ya wouldn't like what happened if I had to pay ya another visit. Do you have the money?"

"No, but…but…I will. I need a little more time."

"Wrong answer."

Joshua stupidly tried to jump up. Not only would he never have made it at the best of times, but he was drunk and barely got to his feet before Myles kicked him square in the chest. He sent him flying back into the recliner that flipped over with the momentum.

Grabbing the edge of the chair, Myles lifted it off of Joshua. He grabbed the man by the front of his stained shirt and punched him in the face. Blood from his broken nose gushed out, and no matter how hard he tried to keep the blows from connecting, Myles never missed. Joshua's face was a mess by the time Myles stopped. He wiped his glove off on Joshua's shirt before standing and stepping back.

"Fuck…fuck, my nose," Joshua groaned. Myles caught him in the stomach with his shitkicker. The guy started throwing up on his already disgusting floor. My stomach rolled as the stench hit me, but if it bothered Myles, he didn't let it show.

"This is yer final warning, Joshua. Stop going to the bars, stop playin' the ponies, and stop goin' to see yer little whore downtown. Ya pay Mr. Collier back by the end of next week or…." Myles grabbed Joshua's chin and stuffed the barrel of the gun into his mouth. "I'll make ya eat my lead. This is your final warnin'."

"I will. I promise. I have a big payday coming in," Joshua said, and Myles shook his head.

"Ya know, I was gonna be nice, but I don't think I got my point across. I said no more ponies, and I meant no more ponies." Myles looked at me. "Make sure he doesn't move." Pulling my gun, I fixed Joshua with a hard stare as Myles left the room. I could hear him going through drawers in the kitchen and knew this was not going to be pretty. He wandered back in with a massive butcher's knife, twirling it in his hand.

"No, no, please don't. I won't. I promise. No more gambling. I swear." Joshua pushed himself back along the floor right through his puke, and I swallowed to keep from gagging.

"Which one?"

"What?"

"A finger or yer cock. Which one do ya want me to take?"

"Nooo." Joshua swung at Myles, but he easily avoided the hit. We watched as Joshua tried to crawl away around the other side of the chair.

"I'm not sure where ya be going, mate." Myles stalked the man, his eyes trained on him. Joshua yelled when Myles brought his boot down onto his back, flattening him out like a bug.

His eyes flicked up to mine, and I swallowed. This was a part of my life that I hated to admit happened. I could handle almost all of it, but there was some shit I had trouble getting behind, and yet we were tortured or killed if we didn't follow orders. This man was no threat to Lawrence, and he was obviously in a bad way, but the rules were clear: get my money or take a pound of flesh. Owen had broken something in Myles long ago. But nothing hammered home the effects of his trauma until you saw the lack of sympathy in his eyes.

"Come here and put a knee in the middle of his back to keep him still."

"Echo, do we really need to do this? He seems pretty sure he can get the money," I said, walking over to take his spot.

"I am. I'm sure. I'll get the money, and you'll never see me again."

Myles looked down at Joshua and then back up at me, but the hard edge in his eyes told me the decision was made.

"That's not how this works." Myles stared at me and stepped on Joshua's hand, making him scream again. He squatted and held the blade in front of Joshua's face, and the man tried to wiggle away. I applied more force with my knee. He winced but stopped struggling.

"Please, I'm begging you," Joshua said, but Myles ignored his pleas.

"You drive a taxi. You don't need your baby finger for that." Before Joshua could yell or pull away, Myles raised the deadly knife and brought it down so hard that it stuck into the floorboards. Joshua's reaction was delayed, but as Myles picked up the severed finger, he screamed hysterically and then passed out.

"Was this necessary," I asked, standing up.

"Are you the one out here collecting for the Devil himself? Are you the one that's taught a lesson if ya didn't make it clear that it's pay or die?" I looked away from his ruthless glare but knew he was telling the truth. Myles kept most of what Owen and Lawrence did to him quiet, but we had seen the bruises and the limp in his stride. "I didn't think so. I do what I have to and nothing more. If ya want to take me spot, feel free. But until then, ya don't fuckin' question me in front of a mark, and ya do what I say. Period."

Myles walked back to the kitchen, and I swore under my breath. Glancing down at Joshua, I truly hoped he got his shit together and had the money next weekend. Coming back here again wasn't something I wanted to do. Myles returned with the finger in a plastic sandwich bag that he stuffed into his pocket. There was just some shit you didn't get used to.

JULY 29 – FRIDAY 1:30 AM

Theo

T: Is everything good there?

B: Yeah, all good. Liam and Nash are still awake, playing pool in the game room. Ren fell asleep, and Lip curled up with her. Mom and Dad stayed to themselves. How did it go?

I glanced over at Myles driving. He hadn't said a word since we left Joshua's house, and I wasn't sure how to answer that question.

T: About as well as you'd expect.

B: Shit. Okay.

T: We're stopping by Lawrence's house first, but we'll be there within the hour.

B: K

Locking my phone, I decided to break the silence. "Everyone is good. Blake says that Lip curled up with Ren and fell asleep."

"Good, he hasn't been sleeping much," Myles said but didn't explain. We pulled up to the Collier residence, and as soon as the guard saw it was us, he opened the gate without hesitation.

We parked, and it genuinely felt like I'd gone job shadowing and realized that this wasn't the career for me. But I'd already signed my life away. A guard was at the door, ready to let us in when we walked up.

"Mr. Collier is expecting you. He's in his office."

I followed Myles before grabbing his arm and whispering. "How much did that guy owe?"

"He owes eighty-two thousand," Myles said, and my mouth fell open.

"He won't be able to come up with that kind of money by next week on a taxi driver's salary," I said as we reached the closed office door.

With an utterly deadpan stare, Myles shrugged. "I know."

Lifting his knuckles, he knocked on the hardwood, and a muffled "Come in" was the response. Lawrence sat behind his desk in a black silk robe with the Collier crest on the breast. A cigar was smoldering in an ashtray, and he had two fingers of bourbon—based on the bottle on the desk—in his glass.

Lawrence didn't bother to look up at us until Myles pulled the plastic bag from his pocket and dropped it on the desk. Lawrence looked at the bloody finger and then ever so slowly raised his eyes to ours.

"I assume this means you don't have my money," he asked as if it were Myles who owed him.

"Naw, he doesn't have it."

Lawrence picked up his cigar and pointed to the severed finger. "This is why I like you, Myles. You always go the extra mile right away. What did you tell Mr. Joshua Smith?"

"I gave him until next week. But it's unlikely he'll have it by then. Do you want me to kill him or cut something else off when he doesn't hand the money over?"

Lawrence took a drag on the cigar and blew the smoke out in a long stream. "For every ten thousand he's short, cut something else off. More fingers or toes. Maybe his ear. Get creative. If he doesn't have any money, then kill him and steal anything of value from the house that I can sell."

Myles nodded.

Lawrence's stare locked with mine, and it felt like being trapped in a tractor beam of darkness. "Did Mr. O'Brien here do a good job?"

I could see Myles out of the corner of my eye. He looked at me, but I kept my eyes firmly on Lawrence.

"Aye, he did. He listened well."

"Very good. I'd like all of you to have a hands-on understanding of the inner workings of this business. You are the next generation to take over, after all. Must be willing to get your hands dirty for the cause." I smirked but bit back the sarcastic remark that was on the tip of my tongue. "Do you have something to say, Theo," Lawrence asked.

"No, Mr. Collier. I don't," I said, finally breaking the staring contest and instead looking at my reflection in the windows behind the desk.

"Very well. Good job, Myles. You're dismissed." We turned to leave but stopped as Lawrence called Myles's name. "Take that thing with you and give it to one of the guards on the way out for disposal. Oh, and Myles…don't forget your birthday is coming up. We are all very excited to see if you pass your initiation."

Myles's face darkened, but he nodded, snatched the baggie from Lawrence's desk, and marched out. I closed the door behind me and wanted to go roll around in a bath of holy water. There was something supremely evil about Lawrence. He got worse with each passing year, or maybe it got easier to recognize. Either way, he looked at Myles like a steak dinner he was getting ready to carve up. Whatever they had planned wasn't good. Fuck.