Chapter 6

CALEB

Iwanted to turn back and look at him. Eli always kept three steps behind me wherever we went, stood outside the door during meetings or made sure I sat in the back of the car when he drove me anywhere.

He was always completely professional, he never smiled at me, never gave any indication he gave a flying shit about me, apart from when we were in the ring or I had my tongue down his fucking throat.

We were walking through the main depot, stupidly high corrugated ceilings, metal walls and concrete floors. Bangs and voices echoed around us as we strode towards my dad's office. There were massive tables running the full length of the warehouse where at least fifty workers were spread out weighing and packing up cocaine, heroin, meth, and whatever else people would buy. The depot ran 24/7 and, whether we were here at 3 pm or 3 am, it was always busy.

As soon as we came last night, he shoved me off of him and left without a single fucking word, even though I swear he was feeling it too.

We were making the rounds, visiting different drop-off points and checking up on our suppliers. We'd been going at it since 9am and now it was 10 pm and I was fucking exhausted. Eli looked tame, as if he was used to the stupidly long hours, as if he was a normal guy and not someone who bent over for me and occasionally begged for my rock hard cock.

And it wasn't like I could get rid of him. Eli followed me around all day as my bodyguard, but it was the memory of his warmth which hunted me. It didn't matter what I was doing, where I was, it was there. Stalking me, hounding me, never letting me forget how much I wanted him. And there wasn't a single fucking thing I could do to stop it.

We made a beeline towards a blue metal door at the far end of the depot that would go unnoticed, apart from the two beefy guys guarding it. It was so fucking obvious they were packing. The warehouse was sweltering and the two of them were wearing thin black Ts, with guns bulging on their hips. And they were both so huge I was pretty sure they were on roids.

The door led to all the main offices, including my dad's, right at the back of the building. They usually let Eli come through with me but, as soon I passed, one of them shot out a hand.

"Mr. Donelli says it's just you this time," he grunted to me. I glanced at Eli to see if he gave a shit, but his face was completely blank as he looked back at me.

I grit my jaw. "Yeah, fine, whatever. I'll be back later. Eli, you can wait in the car if you want."

"How generous, thank you." He bowed his head, totally deadpan. He was going to pay for that once we got back to the compound.

As the door closed behind me, I wanted one last glimpse, but he was already talking to a guard, and I was forgotten.

Eli was perfectly fucking fine chatting with people, being all easy and relaxed and shit. But as soon as we were alone he was back to acting like a fucking robot.

Everything in our world was grey concrete walls and metal doors. Hidden away from the sun, the corridor was cool and at least it was some relief before Dad laid into me.

I sucked in a breath before I knocked on the door. Not that I fucking needed to calm my shit. Dad was a dickhead no matter what mood he was in.

I went in straight away, not caring if it pissed him off. He asked to see me at the end of the day because he knew I'd be fucking cranky and this was the best time for him to get a rise out of me.

Bastard.

He had a L-shaped desk pressed against the corner of the room, a leather sofa on my right and a really fucking annoying low glass coffee table that everyone had to swerve around to get to his desk.

He had his reading glasses on, making him look like Grandpa instead of fifty. He was basically the older version of me, except he slicked back his brown hair to show off his wide ears, his jaw was more pointed and his steel eyes were sharper. Both our noses were fucked up from years of fights; he taught me boxing, and got me involved in the family's underground fight clubs. Really, I could say I would have never ended up meeting Eli if it wasn't for that.

I threw myself into the seat in front of his desk, making sure I sat up and didn't slouch so he didn't snap at me and spent the whole meeting glaring.

"Listen, son," he started.

I held back my groan. He always started his lectures like this, treating me like a fucking child.

"You have the loyalty of most of the men, and you do well enough with the tasks I give you. You have a general grasp of the business and are competent when it comes to making deals." I didn't know if he realised he wasn't actually complimenting me. But I was used to it.

I was hoping this was the time he was finally going to tell me he wanted to step back. I was nearly thirty, it felt like I was ready. Though, Grandpa kept running the family business until he was seventy.

"We've got a problem," Dad said. "A serious fucking problem."

"Is it about Carlos?" I asked. Even though my uncle was a druggy, he was always careful not to overdose. Yet the guys said he was fully drugged up when they found him dead.

"Yes, and no." Dad pushed his glasses up the bridge of his crooked nose. "I have a new job for you."

I folded my arms, waiting for him to hurry up and get to the fucking point. He loved a performance. "Okay, what is it?" I eventually said.

"Well, we suspect it's the same as Wyatt and Bruno. Maybe not the same person, but Carlos was definitely murdered."

I widened my eyes in shock. I mean, yeah, my uncle couldn't breathe without heroin, but he was so paranoid about over-dosing that it came up in every fucking conversation he had when he visited the compound. He even paid a guy to keep on it for him, get him his drugs, even inject the fucking stuff.

"Carlos's bodyguard was dead too, and I think the chances of him drugging Carlos and slitting his own throat are low, so we're assuming it was a hit."

"Well, what are we gonna do about it? We need to get some guys out there and hunt this fucker down."

"Yes, exactly." He nodded, leaning against the back of his chair as he folded his arms. "Which is why I want you to take over Carlos's district, get some real experience of managing the business up there. Not just shadowing someone; running it as one of the heads of the family."

I knew I should be upset that my uncle was dead and he was probably murdered, but I'd been waiting for an opportunity like this for years.

"You've proved enough times you're dedicated to our family, so I want to give you a special job, one that involves finding and killing the person, or people, who murdered him."

I nodded along with my pride fucking swelling. This was the kind of job I needed. Not bullshit paperwork or inspecting the trucks. Real fucking work that involved breaking fingers and shattering knee caps to get me some answers. Plus, if I had to go up to the depot in Pheonix, then I could take Eli with me and maybe even fuck in a hotel instead of a closet.

I was taking over the family. I'd trained my whole life to take on this position. I made my first kill at sixteen, and since then, I've been willing to do anything to make sure our family name stayed strong. I'd do anything Dad asked me to to prove my loyalty, and I'd keep doing that until I was sitting where he was.

"I have to know you're willing to be a real Donelli. Being a part of this family means making sacrifices, doing whatever you need to do for the family, not for yourself. Do you know what I mean?"

"Of course I do, it's all I've been doing." And he'd given me this speech at least three times a year for the past decade. I even quit school at sixteen so I could come and work for the family. I did everything to make sure I could take over from him

Except for fucking Eli. Eli was never part of the plan. Eli was so far away from the fucking plan that I should take the Pheonix job as a sign to get rid of him. Just leave him at the compound while I went off and finally got him out of my system. No hotels or days out together or whatever romantic shit people did when they were in love. I could go cold turkey and stop having to deal with these feelings.

I jolted, realising Dad was still talking. That he'd been talking for five minutes and I'd totally zoned out, day-dreaming about Eli.

Shit, if he figured out I had no idea what he was saying, he'd get pissed off again.

I just had to keep telling Dad what he wanted to hear so he'd send me to Phoenix.

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep this family strong," I said. It was so fucking generic but I hoped it would be enough to convince him.

It wasn't that I didn't feel that way. I fucking loved living like this, especially when it came to doing shit like collecting loan money or chasing up guys who needed to be taught a lesson. If it involved my fists, I was so there. "Good." Dad nodded again, sliding his chair out from under the desk. "Good, that's what I want to hear, because I've got another job for you tonight."

"Really? Tonight?" It was pushing 11 pm and I didn't want to be too tired to give Eli the full package after this was over.

"Yes, though you don't need to look so concerned. It'll be quick." Dad opened the drawer by his hip and withdrew a pistol, checking the cartridge with a click before slipping it into the holster on his hip. "Follow me."

He led me out of his room, heading left instead of right, back towards the depot. The door was closed so I couldn't tell if Eli was still out there, though he'd never abandoned his post before.

Dad opened the door to the loading bay area There was already another beefy guard standing outside, and Dad stopped in the doorway, turning to me.

"Just stay here and watch the show. I'll call you when needed," Dad said before looking at the guard. "Ben, hold it open, would you? I want Caleb to see this."

I stood in the doorway, tracking Dad as he strode towards a group of eight of our guys. I didn't give a shit about that. It was the two people fixed to the drain pipes on the far right wall that grabbed my attention

Dad had a thing about drainpipes. I didn't know if he got off on it, or whatever, but he loved forcing people to stay put while he did his thing. I'd killed enough people that way, that I picked up his method easily, and it was convenient when the blood had somewhere to run.

They were about three metres apart from each other, the floodlights highlighted every patch of blood on their dark suits and white shirts. A man and a woman, I guessed from so far away.

The door in front of me on the other side of the bay burst open, and another two guys came out, dragging a kicking and shouting man across the tarmac. They'd stuck a bag over his head too, and I might not have given a shit, if it wasn't for the fact I recognised his clothes instantly.

Because Eli had gone with a forest green shirt today which I'd spent half the day thinking of ripping off of him.

My heart plummeted as I realised what was happening. Or, I thought I did. I was trying to breathe, trying to think what I could do. I took a step forward but Ben shot a hand out, grabbing my wrist.

I was going to puke, my stomach free-falling as fear flooded through me. Why the fuck was Eli out there?

"Boss says you gotta stay here," Ben said, frowning at me, his brows pulled tight in concentration even though I was pretty sure nothing was going on in his head. I was two seconds away from fighting him when my dad's voice echoed around the landing bays.

"Well, Eli." He laughed as the two guards threw him against the drainpipe. "So nice of you to join us!"