Page 30 of Rise By Sin

“Into the city. Colt was making regular calls to a restaurant calledDa Pietro, like very regular and I want to know why,” I explained.

“I know that place They make the best pasta. I’ve been a few times. Once with Colt actually.”

“Really? Did he speak to anyone there?” I asked excitedly.

“I don’t think so. Not past being polite anyway. How often was he calling there?” Deak asked.

“Most days. Sometimes twice. It definitely feels weird,” I shrugged. “Maybe we can grab something to eat while we’re there at least.”

“You know you’re welcome to stay at my place tonight if those guys are driving you crazy. It’s not as fancy as Jack’s loft, but have a spare room and I can grill a decent steak,” he offered.

“I might just take you up on that offer. Thanks Deak.” Anything to get away from the craziness that awaited me back at Jack’s.

It was strange how safe I felt with Deacon. I barely even knew the guy, and he was certainly an intimidating figure, standing as tall and broad as he did. If he wanted to he could take me down easily in the state I was, but I had no fear of him since the moment I met him. I just knew he was a good guy, and more then that, he just had this ability to make me feel safe.

He was doing just that as we walked the few blocks from where Deak had parked to the restaurant. He was at my side, and he made no attempt to touch me in anyway, but he seemed to have this ability to just surround me so that everyone who was rushing down the sidewalk, took a wo=ide berth around the both of us. It was a relief, since I was already flagging, my legs exhausted by the walk and starting to cramp already.

A sigh of relief slipped form me when I glanced ahead and saw the sign for the restaurant Deacon had been leading me to. I honestly didn’t know how much walking power I had left with the pain I was in.

“What’s the play? Are you going in there asking questions, or do you have something more subtle planned?” Deacon asked as we neared the entrance. I looked the place over as we passed the huge open windows. It was modern and tasteful, the signage simple, but classy. Inside it looked modern with high backed booths down one side and closely set up table covered in white linen throughout the space. It was still early, so the place was empty except for the staff bustling around to set up.

“Subtle’s not really my style,” I replied with a smile.

“Now that I can believe,” he chuckled as we pushed through the door of the restaurant and stepped inside. I could already smell the amazing aromas of herbs and fresh bread baking the second we stepped inside. There was quiet back ground music playingand I instantly loved the place. It had been so long since I did something as simple as eat in a restaurant and standing there I realized how much I’d missed it.

“Sorry, we’re not open for another hour,” A young waitress told us as she looked up from where she was setting cutlery on the tables.

“We’re not here to eat. I just wanted to ask a few questions,” I spoke up.

“Are you cops?” she asked as she studied the both of us with some doubt.

“Yeah,” I lied. “Is there a manager around we could speak with?”

“The manager’s not here yet, but the owner’s in the back. Should I get him?” she asked as she looked around rather nervously.

“You can show us to his office,” I told her as I walked further into the place as steadily as I could. It hard to pull off the confidence I used to be so good at faking as a detective when you couldn’t walk without the aid of a stick and were shaking like you’d swallowed a vibration plate, but the girl didn’t argue as she moved in front of us and simply led us into the back.

She walked to the end of a short hallway and knocked on a closed door before sticking her head around it as she opened it.

“Mr. Morton? There are some cops out here to talk to you,” she told him nervously. When she stepped back and opened the door for us I walked in, grateful to Deacon for allowing me to take the lead. I was pretty sure neither Jack nor Mason would have done the same had they been with me.

The office was impeccably neat and smelled strongly of cleaning products. There were filing cabinets across the back wall anda large antique looking desl straight ahead, behind which sat a guy who was obviously the wowner of the restaurant. He was wearing a perfectly pressed shirt which was plain baby blue, but at the cuffs, which he had rolled up, there was a colorful, flower patterned fabric, just peeking out. The same fabric circled the inside of the collar too, and on his wrist was a tasteful, but simple silver watch. He was in his late thirties, or maybe early forties, with a thick head of sandy blonde hair that looked a little unruly as it flopped slightly into his eyes. He was clean shaven and definitely good looking if you were into the clean cut image.

“Mr. Morton. Thanks for seeing us I’m…”

“Bam,” he cut in, shocking the shit out of me. Colt was the only person who had ever called me that, and I had asked him to never tell anyone else, embarrassed for the reason he’d given me that name and not wanting it to stick. But it had stuck for Colt and he still called it me to that day…or at least he had the last time we spoke.

“H-how did you know that?” I gasped as I looked from him to Deacon with confusion and some concern. I felt Deacon move closer to me, pressing himself against my back as his hand wrapped around my right hip protectively. I was too taken aback by what had happened to care. In fact the support felt reassuring.

“I’ve seen your pictures at the apartment, and Colt…he talks about you al of the time.”

“Who are you?” I questioned suspiciously. “Do you know where Colt is?”

“He…he’s supposed to be with you. He called me, said he was coming to visit you last week. Is he alright?”

“Your name,” Deak reminded him, sounding rather intimidating even with just those two words.

“Sorry. I’m Ky. Kylan Morton,” the poor guy stuttered as he eyed Deacon warily. “Can one of you tell me where Colt is? Is he safe?” I could see the worry written all over Ky’s face as he asked about my brother, and then there were his initials. K.M.

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