37. Zane

Chapter thirty-seven

Zane

I hate the antiseptic smell that lingers in the air in this place. It's the only thing that can distract me from my fear for Jasmine as I pace the corridor.

"Dad, sit down," Marcus urges. "We've got our bases covered. Ronan is safe, and we'll know everything that happened soon. The guys will find Desmond."

It worries me that they haven't found him yet. I want to be out there looking for him, but I'm not a foot soldier. I'm the one who gathers all the information and decides where the men go. I rub at the stubble coating my chin and wonder if Jasmine would prefer me with a beard, but that makes me worry more about my kitten, and increases my need to find Desmond.

Marcus and Lenny move in unison, as their phones beep with incoming messages. I check my phone but nothing has come through for me.

"What is it?" My voice is a low growl, every nerve strained to its limit.

"Great, it's Knox," Marcus says, his tone gruff and laced with the strain of unwelcome news. "He needs us now. Something big has come up."

"Damn it." The words escape like steam from a pressure valve. Knox's timing couldn't be worse. Lenny and Marcus are my best men as well as my sons, but they are Knox's capos, not mine. "Fine, go clean up his mess. Let me know when you are done."

"Understood," Marcus confirms, his reluctance clear in his tone.

As their footsteps recede down the corridor, I'm left alone.

Just me and the chlorine smell of cleaning products.

"Zane, it's good of you to wait." Michael steps through the side door and heads across to me, his features heavy like he's having a worse time of things than I am.

"Are you doing alright?" I take a moment to express my concern for the doctor. He runs a legitimate business mostly; luckily, we don't need his services often enough to need someone full-time.

"Gavriil cleaned me out on Friday. I could do with some extra funds."

"You'll be well compensated for Ronan's care, but if you need more, make an appointment to see me. But make it for a few days; I'm in the middle of something right now."

Gavriil runs a poker night several times per week. I'm not going to outright accuse him of cheating. I'll just say the older Nico gets, the more successful Gavriil gets at poker. I've attended occasionally, but I know not to expect any cash when I leave. For me, it's a social evening, but clearly, it's hurting the doctor's wallet.

"I'm not sure how much Ronan will manage to tell you, but you're welcome to try."

I nod my thanks and head into Ronan's room.

Ronan lies on a medical bed, covered with a thin blanket. The room is more of a consulting room than a ward, with a delightful poster about checking your prostate above the bed.

I pull my eyes away and gently tap Ronan's arm. Ronan's eyelids flutter open, and his face finds mine.

"Boss..." His voice is hoarse and quiet, but I acknowledge him with a nod.

"Easy," I reassure him, placing my hand on his shoulder. You're safe now."

"Th-thank… Thank you." Ronan's words betray his drowsiness.

"Focus on getting better. When you can, I need to know who I'm gonna hurt for this."

"Desmond. And he's got a few other guys." Ronan's hand grips my forearm. "He was asking… But I didn't tell him… It doesn't matter, I think he already knows."

"Knows what?" I encourage.

"Everything." Ronan sighs. "I didn't talk, boss. I didn't tell Desmond a damn thing."

"I believe you."

"But he... I think he knows. Somehow, he already knows."

"So he knows about Jasmine in the alley? He knows we helped her?"

It's not difficult for him to work it out. Andrew was waiting for Jasmine. I'd already shown an interest in her. Even a slimeball like Desmond could work that out.

"Why do you think he left you?" I need to know Desmond's angle for leaving Ronan alive. I'm very happy to find him breathing, but he's just a loose end for Desmond.

"He thinks… he pays the mob for protection… he thinks the cartel's support lies with him… paying for it… but that will stop if he kills…"

"Shh. Rest now."

So Desmond thinks the money he gave me guarantees him clemency in his vengeance against Jasmine, but not if he killed Ronan?

"I'm sorry, boss."

"No." I snap a little sterner than I intended. "You did nothing wrong. I'm going to look after you, I promise. But right now, I need to go and put a bullet in Desmond Graves."

"Thanks… boss…"

"Tell Michael to get you anything you need. Cost is not an issue." That should keep both men content.

I head out of the room; my only goal is to get to Jasmine. Tracing Desmond has to be delegated to one of the capos or their foot soldiers, depending on how big Knox's mess is. I dial Edward as I climb into my car.

"Edward, I need Marcus or Lenny pulled from the investigation. It's urgent."

There was a pause, a sigh heavy like lead through the line. "That's a no-go," Edward replies, and I can almost see him rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Knox's boy got snatched. We're all hands on deck."

"Damn it," I curse under my breath. "Do you need me?"

"No," Edward's words fill me with relief. "You have full clearance. Do what you must; protect the family."

"Understood." It seems like I'm on my own, then.

I pull up Dave's contact information on my phone, newly added at the beginning of this assignment.

'Eyes on Desmond? ' I text hopefully.

‘Desmond's gone dark. No visuals for the last two hours.'

"Damn it." I stopped in my tracks, typing a frantic reply.

‘Any leads? ''

‘Negative. It's like he vanished into thin air.'

‘Keep looking.'

‘Understood.'

I throw my phone on the passenger seat and head to Jasmine. If Desmond has gone to ground, I need to be at the one place he's likely to show up.