Once inside, the scent of age and mold slammed into my sinuses. My vision adjusted to the darkness, and I searched the large interior of Butcher and Son. I spotted the corpse in the corner, but the dark shape not far from it had my body coming even more alert.
With my hand back on the grip of the gun, I moved toward the two bodies. It was when I was a few feet away that I stopped and focused my attention on one of the men lying supine on the slaughterhouse floor.
Stone. Another associate of the Ruin. And he was alive. Really fucking interesting turn of events.
If I were a man who could be surprised, this would have been one of those times. As it was, I felt nothing but annoyance that this wouldn’t be an easy, quick fix like I planned, and instead I’d deal with two bodies instead of one.
Stone was a man I didn’t know much about, but one who was just as connected with the Ruin as I was. Although he and I weren’t friends and had no connection other than the same crime syndicate, we’d crossed professional paths more than once, and I did hold mild respect for him because of that.
I didn’t see him as even an acquaintance, but he also wasn’t my enemy, and because of the latter, I’d help get him the fuck out of here instead of killing him. Because if he were anyone else, any other poor bastard who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and allowed themselves to be vulnerable, I’d get rid of them so there wasn’t even more fallback.
Stone was lying on the ground, the corpse not far from him. If I hadn't seen Stone’s chest rise and fall, I might have taken his otherwise still body as being long dead.
When I was beside him, I crouched and just stared at him for a moment. I didn’t know what the fuck had gone down here for Stone to even be in this situation, nor did I care. He needed out so I could get my shit done.
I said in a low, deep voice, “Wake up, dumbass.” He didn’t respond, and I said louder, “Open your eyes.” Stone groaned, and a moment later he obeyed, his eyes opening and the fuzziness in the dark depths fading as the seconds moved by and he got his bearings. “Come on, time for you to get the fuck gone, Stone.”
“Arlo?” he prompted gruffly before coughing, blood spraying from his lips and covering my shirt with red droplets.
I glanced down at the blood on my white shirt that looked black on the material from the ominous lighting. Fucking perfect. “Come on,” I said again and helped him off the ground. “Let's get you out of here so I can do my job.”
Stone didn’t say anything as he looked at my face, his gaze taking in the busted lip and cut above my eye.
“What the fuck?” he grunted out.
I didn’t bother responding to the clear fact that I’d gotten in a fight. If you were part of the Ruin, you knew not to ask too many questions.
He braced his weight against me. “But how? Why?”
I didn’t know if he’d been hit over the head and that’s why he kept running his mouth, but I helped him out of the warehouse. Maybe some fresh air would clear his mind. “See, those are questions. And I don't want fucking questions.”
“I don't understand.”
I wasn’t sure what he was going on about, most likely private business. Either way, not my concern. Stone rested against the side of the slaughterhouse, and I grabbed my cell. After a quick call to the Ruin for a pickup, I disconnected the call and shoved my cell back in my pocket. I knew whoever wanted Stone dead would want confirmation, but that wasn’t my fucking concern.
Ten minutes later a car’s headlights flashed, and the vehicle was coming to a stop beside us.
“Just get the fuck out of here, Stone. You want to survive? Leave.”
He nodded. “But what about you?”
I shook my head and said nothing. I stared him in the eyes, seeing what a hardheaded bastard he was.
I ran a hand over my face, feeling a rush of pleasure when my palm scraped over my busted lip.
“Thanks.” He opened the back passenger-side door.
I tipped my head in acknowledgment. Fortunately he didn't say anything else, just sat in the back and shut the door.
I stood there and watched him leave, pissed that my otherwise “normalcy” of a fix had been met with extra strings tonight.
When the car was long gone, the cloaking darkness closing in on me once more, I turned and headed back inside, about to do what I did best.
Surround myself in everything fucked up.
8
Galina
I curled my fingers around the edge of the newspaper, trying to stop my hands from shaking, but it was a losing battle. The black-and-white picture and headline started to run together the longer I stared at them. It was as if what I was looking at mocked me, reminding me that my life had never been easy, that I’d never get the happily ever after I’d read about in books.