Chapter Ten

When Brick pulled out of the parking garage of Cobalt Security that evening, he couldn’t stop himself from driving by Suwan Guardians.

The run in with Fighter yesterday had him putting Felix on his tail instead of doing it himself. It was for his own piece of mind.

Was that Fighter’s stalker? He didn’t think so…stalkers usually worked alone. All he knew at this point was that he’d seen red when those men had confronted Fighter in front of the discount market place. And who were those kids? Must be family members, he couldn’t recall Wyatt or Hayden saying anything about Fighter having children.

“I’ll just do a drive by,” he said to the empty jeep and turned downtown instead of toward his own home.

It wasn’t anything big, he just needed to go that way for…for fucking nothing, he thought with disgust. But that didn’t cause him to turn around and drive home.

The job wasn’t supposed to start until the next day when Bishop came with all the information needed on the stalker, plus all of Fighter’s personal data that would give them an edge on keeping tabs.

Brick rolled his neck tiredly. He should have gone home to sleep. It wasn’t tomorrow yet.

So the hell what? His grip on the steering wheel tightened. Stalkers came at night, right?

That was pure bullshit. Stalkers came and did their creepy shit whenever the fuck they wanted. They wouldn’t wait for tomorrow if they wanted to stalk at night.

He justified being there because he’d already put money in Cobalt’s account for the investigation of Fighter Suwan’s stalker. They all could tell by the thread-bare t-shirt and unintentionally ripped jeans that Bishop didn’t have much money—or any money at all.

Brick turned the corner and parked down the street so he wouldn’t be seen. After killing the lights, he shut off the engine. He’d only be able to leave it off for a few minutes due to the cold. He pulled on his winter gloves and hunched on the heated seat.

It wouldn’t bode well if Fighter caught him. Not to mention embarrassing.

Fuck that. It was a free fucking country, and he could drive anywhere he pleased. Except home was in the opposite direction.

The place was dark except for a faint light somewhere inside. Probably left on for security. It was clear that Fighter hadn’t opened the doors back up again.

Had he gone belly up?

Brick rubbed at his chest. The one thing Bishop had said was that Fighter’s stalker had been active for months. So that meant the night of the fundraiser, the stalker might have been there in any capacity.

He scowled at the front of the rundown building with its cracked, chipped paint and dirty windows. Hell, the place didn’t even have bars on the windows. It looked exactly like what it was.

Poverty.

“The guy has no fucking business sense, that’s all that is,” he snarled under his breath, suddenly pissed for no reason at all.

He reached for the keys, ready to get the fuck out of there, but a darkly dressed figure approaching the front of the rundown building stopped him. The man used something on the flimsy door, and it popped silently open. Was this a thief or the stalker? Fighter’s place of business was in a shitty part of town.

Of course, there were no fucking alarms on the building.

“Great,” Brick muttered.

The building looked deserted, so more than likely nobody was inside. It had to be the stalker with the way the guy moved. And really, this was way better. Catch the fucking stalker on the first day. Brick could have laughed at the timing.

“Stupid motherfucker,” Brick snorted. Lifting his cell phone, he punched in 911.

“911 operator, how can I help you?”

“Yeah, someone broke into the place at…” Brick gazed at his phone to find the address because it sure as fuck wasn’t on any of the buildings around here.

“Oh, that area,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“We don’t have anyone in the area at the moment, but I’ll send it along.”

“Look they’re breaking and entering right now. Call a unit,” he ordered. “I was hired to investigate a stalker and he’s just broken into the building.”

“Stalker? Is there anyone inside the building?”

“Not to my knowledge. Why should that matter?”

“That area has at least four or five break-ins a week. I’ll send the closest unit, but I can’t promise they’ll get there right away.”

The line went dead, and Brick sat there for a few seconds with his mouth hanging open.

“Lady…you just lost your job and the ability to get another one in any related field,” he vowed.

So what if the building was empty? Was that a reason to not respond to a break-in? Whoever it was, was more than likely inside gathering potential information on Fighter. That was how stalkers thought, plus they skulked in the shadows.

“Fuck,” he muttered and called Wyatt.

“Hey Brick, what’s up?”

“Can you call Bishop and tell him that someone broke into their business? I ah… just happened to be driving by.”

“Shit. Yeah, I’ll do that. Are the cops on the way?”

“Yeah, but I think it’s going to be a while…due to the area.” Or maybe the operator didn’t relay the call, he didn’t fucking know.

“Fuckers,” Wyatt growled. “No wonder that part of town has crime on the rise. Aren’t we doing a stalker case for Suwan?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought the case starts tomorrow?”

Brick squeezed the cell and stayed silent. Wyatt, the smart man he was, got the hint and changed the subject.

“I’ll ah… I’ll call Bishop and I’ll make another call to 911. I’m not near the office at the moment.”

“Thanks,” Brick grunted and ended the call.

He contemplated going inside and removing the fucker himself, but hesitated. The Cobalt investigation was all to be done under the radar.

He sat mulling over his choices.

Suddenly, several darkly dressed figures moved along the darkest part of the building and entered through the same open door.

What the fuck?

Who the hell were they?

Was someone actually inside the building?

“Well, if that doesn’t look suspicious,” he muttered and lifted his phone to call Gunner. This sure the fuck didn’t look stalker related.

“What’s up?”

“You still at the office, right?”

“Yeah, it’s my turn to babysit,” Gunner said.

“Round up the troops and meet me at the address I’m texting you ASAP.”

“You got it. Why?”

“Because some shit’s going down at Fighter’s place of business and the cops aren’t here yet.”

“What are you doing there?”

“Why does it fucking matter? I did a drive by!” Brick snapped.

“Sorry.”

“Gunner? Come armed with stun guns and non-lethal rounds.”

No way did he want bullets flying around in a place with so many businesses.

Flashlights flickered within the building. Shit. They were probably in there stealing shit. Brick clenched his jaw. Fighter didn’t need this shit; the guy was struggling enough as it was.

“I’m on my way,” Gunner said.

Brick ended the call and sat there for a few seconds before he unzipped his heavy jacket and tucked his Heckler into the shoulder holster. Sliding from his jeep, he opened the back door and strapped a sheath to his thigh before sliding a knife inside. He pulled on a pair of brass knuckles for shits and giggles.

From what he’d counted, there were eight people inside, but nobody had, as of yet, come out. Careful of how slick it was, he jogged across the street and stood to the side of the open doorway. Cocking his head, he listened before stepping inside.

The guy guarding the door turned in surprise and Brick knocked the fucker out with a clean blow to the jaw. He stepped over the body on his way farther through the open door.

That left seven perps remaining. The large front room that resembled a shoddy training area stood empty, so that was a fucking relief. His men would have the jack-offs rounded up in no time. That was if they weren’t armed.

Laughter came from a hallway situated at the back of the large room, and he wondered what they’d found so amusing in the empty place, except that maybe it wasn’t empty after all? Wait…Brick tipped his head slightly.

Was that a baby crying?