Page 8 of The Ghost of Rage's War

A week later, Sharp heard that Toxic had fingered one of Bulldog’s last men as the thief. Naturally, he wasn’t, but it warned Sharp that Toxic wasn’t stupid like he’d thought. Behind the false swagger was a brain.

“Clever,” Sharp said to his brother.

“Very. With Michaelson making sure Bulldog’s crew disappear, Santos’s will never reach the culprit in time. In fact, it’s rumoured that Rage caught up with Bulldog. They’ll not get that fifty k back, but they won’t search for someone because of Toxic fingering the ex-Rage members. After the show of force Rage just made, nobody’s going to fuck withthem for a while,” Anderson said.

“Careful, brother, it sounds almost like admiration,” Sharp commented, amused.

“Got to give it to your pres, he knows how to hide bodies and clean up a mess. We’ve not got anything on him,” Anderson replied.

“You never will because there’s nothing to be found,” Sharp denied, and Anderson snorted in decision. Yeah, Sharp wouldn’t out Drake for anything.

???

Sharp walked into a bar and surveyed his surroundings before ordering a beer and putting himself in a corner table. He glanced at his phone and peered around the room. People avoided his gaze as they did in shitholes like this.

Shit, even touching the glass made Sharp wanna run for a shower. The place was filthy, but there was a reason he was here.

Eyes narrowed on him, and Sharp sensed it. He ducked his head and pretended to be tapping on his phone.

The scrape of a chair alerted him that someone was sitting down opposite him.

“You got three seconds before I put a hole in your gut and walk out,” Sharp warned.

“No way to greet an old friend,” Toxic replied, leaning back. “Be pointless if you shot me now after saving me.”

“We ain’t friends,” Sharp said and tapped his phoneonce more before putting it face down. He’d scrub that fucker with a wet wipe before it got anywhere near his ear.

“We’re something, homie,” Toxic responded.

“Not your homie, either. What do you want?” Sharp asked.

“You saved my life,” Toxic stated.

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

“Fuck me, talking to you is worse than the fuckin’ dentist. You left without taking the money.”

“Yeah?”

“You looking for work?” Toxic questioned.

“Dude, you don’t know me from Adam, but you’re here offering me a job,” Sharp said with a short bark of laughter.

Toxic nodded. “Because you’re a man I need. You stepped up to four attackers without a second thought. Kicked two of their asses. You put a stranger in a car, and drove him to a backstreet doc, and disappeared. I’ve had men out looking for you and you’re a ghost. And you are someone I want on my team,” Toxic said.

“Doing what?” Sharp asked.

“Need a bodyguard. My last one… he wasn’t so good. He got me jumped and lost me fifty k. My boss wasn’t happy, especially when we know we ain’t got a hope in hell of getting that back,” Toxic stated.

“And now he is fertilising a field somewhere and pushing up daisies,” Sharp replied, and Toxic laughed.

“He’s taking forced retirement,” Toxic announced.

“I ain’t cheap. And I’m between jobs, so may be open to an offer, but don’t fuckin’ insult me,” Sharp said.

Toxic’s eyes narrowed. Sharp wondered what he was thinking.

“I want a bodyguard, you’ve got the skills,” Toxic mused.

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