Page 60 of The Kingpin's Omega Lover
Hartford climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door. “We’re good to head home. The boss said he might be a while, but he’ll call with updates.”
“Okay. Thank you, Hartford. For the pep talk.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Cann. And I didn’t say it before, but I’m really happy you got your son back. No one deserves to get their kid taken away.” Hartford briefly met his gaze in the rearview and nodded.
Malori nodded back then put the blindfold on without being asked. He settled into the backseat with his water, still sweaty and upset, but also confident he hadn’t failed. He’d simply tried doing a job that wasn’t his. King would get the answers they needed out of Yovenko. Malori would be reunited with both of his children.
One way or another.
SIXTEEN
King requestedthat Garvey drive him to a safe house not far from the docks, so he could take a shower and change his clothes. Blood was not a good look when trying to be discreet about his activities, and he didn’t want any extra suspicion cast his way. He also didn’t want Malori or Kensley to see him splattered in blood.
Everything King had done in that room stayed in that room. And in his memory.
Neither of them spoke on the trip home. Garvey had been present the entire two hours, and King trusted him not to talk about what he’d seen. The other men had come in afterward to tend to Yovenko until his fate was decided; they’d likely heard the screams, but all they saw was the aftermath.
King stared at his hands during the ride, positive he’d missed some blood under his fingernails. Certain Malori would see a smear on his neck. Sure that everything he’d done would play out in his eyes the moment they looked at each other. King had hurt and threatened and tortured before. He’d done it recently.
Was he finally losing his taste for violence? Had he sampled a simpler, happier life, and now there was no going back?
“Boss?” Garvey tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. “We’re here. Do you need me to come up?”
King blinked at the underground garage’s elevator doors. Garvey had pulled up to the curb. “No, you’re fine to go home. I’ve got Hartford and McFadden upstairs.”
“Good enough, sir.”
“Thank you.” He twisted his upper body to face Garvey, who’d worked diligently for King for the last six years. He’d even taken a bullet for King four years ago. “Thank you for today. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“What happened to Mr. Malori wasn’t easy or okay. I was proud to stand by you, boss.”
“I appreciate it. See you Monday.”
“Monday, sir.”
King climbed out. Garvey idled until the elevator doors closed, cutting off sight and sound. His stomach lurched unhappily during the ascent, as much from nerves as hunger, with a side helping of something else. Something a lot like regret.
Fuck, I’m getting soft. It’s definitely time to get out.
Hartford was at his post in the lobby, and he didn’t look surprised to see him. Garvey must have texted. His most trusted men were on top of things.
King followed the sounds of joyous baby laughter into the living room. A yellow blanket was spread out on the carpet. Malori and Kensley sat in the middle with little Junior between them. The baby was using Malori’s fingers as grips to stand upright, his diapered butt bouncing like he was dancing to music only he could hear. Bishop sat nearby on the sofa. Davia and McFadden weren’t in the room.
Junior bopped three more times, lost his grip, and fell onto his butt. Instead of crying, he brayed out a high-pitched squeal.The pure innocence was overwhelming, and King backed out of the room.
He wandered into the kitchen and absently pulled a bottle of something from the refrigerator. Chugged the remnants of orange juice and wished it was laced with vodka. It didn’t help his rolling, upset gut, so he pulled out a package of deli meat and shoved a piece into his mouth. Then another.
“We’ve got bread if you want a sandwich,” Bishop said.
King dropped the package on the counter then turned. “Just need something to settle my stomach.”
“Where do we stand?”
“Even ground. Information is useless but the source still has potential.”
“For trade?”
King nodded. “Unless Ziggy tells me the fucker is worth a fortune, then I’m willing to sell him for the best information. Someone must know where Malori’s daughter is. We found his son. We can find his daughter.”
