"Do you want to try that again?" I seethed to the asshole on the ground. I cracked my knuckles and flexed my wrists as I waited. It was part intimidation and part warming up for the ass-kicking I felt coming.
"I'm s-s-s-s sorry, Sax. I'll do better. It's just been a hard month, I had—"
"Do I look like I give a shit, asshole? No. Don't mistake me asking, for caring about what's going on in your miserable life. You're to give me 10% of the monthly earnings. Period. Yet, here I stand with only 5%. Where's the rest of the money, Corey? Hmm?"
"I-uh-I-uh…"
"Spit it out before I break your teeth for annoying me."
"Delgado, he… he…"
At the mention of Delgado, my blood boiled. This fucker was causing more and more trouble every day. It was going to come to a head soon, and I hoped it wasn't on us. He was increasingly becoming a thorn in my side. I still haven't forgiven myself for the events six months ago. The fear started to crawl up my spine as I recalled that night, and I shoved it way down, locking it behind the vault in my mind. Too much shit had happened in my life to keep it on the surface.
Though, some days I feared I was one memory lock away from snapping and killing everyone. Some days… that didn't seem like such a bad idea. The world was full of despicable men and women, and I just wanted to keep my family safe. Whatever the cost. Sometimes, that meant I had to be the bad guy to do it. I regretted nothing in my pursuit of that goal—only when I failed at it.
"Here is what you're going to do, Corey," I sneered, grabbing him by the collar. I yanked him to me as I knelt by his head. This guy pissed me off so much, I took offense even with his name.
"You're going to pay back the money you owe, and you're going to pay me early for next month. I don't trust you anymore, so you're either going to find a way to make it work, or I'll break your face. Got it?"
The sniveling snot was shaking, and the smell of his piss wafted up to me. I was done with him. Punching him in the face, I dropped him back on the ground before wiping my hands down my dark jeans, grateful they'd cover any bloodstains. I'd dressed more casually than usual since it worked better to blend with the masses when I was collecting. Not that I blended all too well due to my height, beard, and tattoos, but it made me feel like I at least tried.
Walking out of the storefront, I zipped up my leather jacket and pulled out my riding gloves as I mounted my bike. I had one more stop before checking on the guards to see if there was any new info on the mole. I was certain now that there was one. Too much shit was getting to Delgado right under our noses for there not to be. We weren't this incompetent.
An ass in a pair of jeans caught my attention across the street, and I realized it was the pretty therapist. Something about her drew me in like a bee to honey. She had this vulnerability that intrigued me, and yet, I could see the sex Goddess just there waiting to emerge. The night at the club, she hadn't recognized us, but I'd most definitely noticed her. I still wasn't sure if Atticus knew it was her. He liked to be in denial about those types of things until it smacked him in the face.
When she'd talked to me while the couple danced, I saw that spark, that adventure hiding deep within. It'd been one of the few times I was jealous of Mas as he'd been the one to feel her and bring her to ecstasy. It was apparent she had no clue, though. I'd tested her in the office the other day and saw no recognition in her pretty eyes.
I imagined I was just as good as she was at reading body language and expressions. It was part of my position as a guard, and even more so now as his advisor, his Consigliere. It was a skill I'd honed over the years. At thirty-seven, there wasn't much that got past me. And the one that did… haunted me to this day.
Spitfire was walking with a teen that looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't recall from where. Part of me wanted to follow them, but I needed to get to my last stop more. I had a feeling she was quickly becoming an obsession I wouldn't be able to let go of, though.
Women had always been a dime a dozen for me. I wasn't being callous, just honest. Having a different bed partner each night wasn't uncommon, and it allowed me the level of freedom and invisibility I needed. Mas, well, he was pickier. Often he would limit himself, and I'd come to expect it was some sort of penance, but it wasn't unusual for us to share women. And the way we'd both responded to her, I hoped we found her between us soon. Mas just had to get out of his own way first.
When they went around the corner, I strapped on my helmet before revving my engine and heading toward my next stop. There was a part of me that enjoyed this job because I got to smash heads when they didn't follow the rules, and people never followed the rules. Everyone always thought they were above the law and wouldn't get caught.
Jokes on them. I was the law, and I always caught my prey.
The winter chill rushed around me as I drove through the Chicago streets. Until there was snow or ice, I rode my baby everywhere. It was much easier to navigate the busy streets, and parking was simpler. The cool breeze whipped around me, and I felt invigorated. Nothing could replace the feel of the engine as it rumbled and hummed between my legs. My bike, punching Corey, and seeing the sexy spitfire had my blood pumping for this next tenant.
Parking, I climbed off my baby and strode into the barbershop. It was cliche, but Daddy Mascro wasn't the cleverest, not like Mas. Many of these businesses helped run the gambling rings we had, the fights Nicco ran, to bookies for every type of sports, horses, and racecars. If it could be bet on, there was someone, somewhere, willing to take the odds. Most of these shops had been in the family forever and wouldn't dare think of double-crossing, thus making my job easy.
At the end of each month, I visited and collected the 10% they owed us for ‘rent' and exchanged dirty money from other families into the businesses and gambling pools. Our system was practically flawless, and no one could match our reach or versatility. The Delgado's were the lowest of the three families operating out of chop shops, drugs, and violence. They were the scum of our world, and their honor was decreasing with every secret I uncovered. They were reckless, which got people killed. I just hoped it wouldn't be us this time.
The Rawle's were in the business of import/export and could get almost anything you needed to be brought here or shipped. They specialized in weapons, with some counterfeits mixed in, and the lesser of their business—people. They only advertised that they could extract people and transport them across borders, but Mas and I had a feeling they were dipping their toes in human trafficking, and if that were the case, we would need to put a stop to it. There were lines you didn't cross, even in the underground.
There were several other smaller families in Chicago, of course, but they all tended to align themselves with one of the big three, just waiting for us to take the other out so they could take up the mantle for power. The dynamics hadn't shifted in ten years, with Mascro being groomed under Dayton "the Grim Reaper's" control. The shift in leadership left us in a precarious position, and we found ourselves waiting for one of the other families to make a play.
Fortunately for our family, Mas was a fucking genius, With an MBA and savvy business sense, he was moving us in a new direction. One I eagerly awaited to see come to fruition. I owed everything to the Mascro family, but especially Mas. He was my best friend and brother, and we'd been through a lot in our thirty-year friendship.
"Pops! How's it going?" I warmly greeted the older man as the sound of clippers buzzed amidst the chatter.
"Saxon Wessex, as I live and breathe. It's been ages since I last saw you. How's it going, boy?"
Pops was an old-timer, and a great uncle something or other to Mas, plus a genuinely great human being. We spent a lot of time here growing up, learning the ropes from him.
"A little trouble with some of the new tenants, but I think we came to an agreement." I grinned mischievously.
"Meaning your fist met his face?" he joked.