Page 29 of Hearts Etched in Glass
“I have the time of the incident and documented how your room appears, but what did he look like?”
Jameson reaches for her throat, rubbing it nervously. “He had, um. He had ginger hair. A hooked nose. He went by Ronnie. He told me to call him Ronnie. As I started his massage he kept saying inappropriate things. He complained about his ex-lover and how he was goingto do heinous things to her. He also asked about when he would get a ‘happy ending’, and he tried turning onto his back and grabbing my hand towards his cock,” she sniffles, as the officer hands her a handkerchief. Kenneth turns to stand beside me, still listening intently.
“He rushed off the table when I started becoming more stern. When he pinned me against the wall I squirted oil on his face, trying to hit his eyes.” She points to her ripped attire, near her groin. “He tried to, but I screamed bloody murder. I tried to fight. Tried to break his collarbone, but he held my wrists together with one hand over my head. He kept telling me he had power, because his family was rich. That they were going to take over the town, with how much money they have.”
“Was his name Ronald McKinley?” The malice drips with each word.
“Yes, yes sir. You’ll see it on the record from when he signed in as well.”
Kenneth’s hand wraps around my forearm, placing it in a vice-like grip.
He is furiousand so am I.
“Alright, enough!” Kenneth shouts. His anger palpates throughout the room, causing the officer and Jameson to jump.
“Was that really necessary?” I say through gritted teeth.
Kenneth ignores me and begins shouting demands. He wants the officers to search the town, find Ronald and bring him to headquarters.
“In fact. Bring all those fuckers in, by order of The Afton Adders.” He peers down at his black watch, and huffs in irritation. “Shite. I have an important meeting to attend to. Bobby, stay, make sure Jameson is sorted and all those in the building are well. We need everything under-fucking-control.” He glares up at me. “Got that? Don’t fuck this up.”
His tone pisses me off, so I spit back, “A brother is born for a time of adversity. Psalm.”
The rush of a hand grasps my shirt as he pulls me face to face. “This is the makings of a war, between businesses. The last thing we need is for the McKinley family tothink they are smart.”
Then his heavy footsteps thunder through the hall as my big brother leaves the establishment, darkness enshrouding his vexed aura.
After I help the girls clean up, we activate our protective plan. This was created after the wanton murders my mother committed against massage girls. It is an extensive plan that can impact our finances, as we activate undercover personnel. They will watch this place and pose as staff members, thus creating a very negative and tense aura around the establishment. The regular staff, such as secretaries, masseuses, and massage girls, must dedicate some of their hours throughout the week to defensive training. These courses may refresh their muscle memory and teach them potential new abilities to protect themselves. We don’t want to take any chances, ever again.
I meet with the team for an immediate staff brief in the large spa room. They gather round watching me with anticipation. I explain that the protective plan has been activated and provide them enough money to buy whole new wardrobes, so they don’t get too pissed. Once I’m finished encouraging them to stagger their schedules to maximize their defense training and stillmaintain their working clients, I leave. Swinging my leg over my OEC, I rev up the motorbike engine and head to The Den.
Marcus and Tilly are supposed to join me for a quick lunch. I should be excited but the mortifying events leave a horrendous taste in my spirit.
I walk up the wooden staircase, waving at Lyle, the pub keep. Tilly and Marcus have already ordered our food and sit patiently waiting for me.
“Thanks for getting my favorite,” I mutter and sit down quietly. The Den is three stories and connected to our underground operations. There are also back offices, but I never utilize them. It’s mostly Kenneth and Everett that have.
Tilly and Marcus inquire about my day, and it takes me a moment to regurgitate the information without shouting or leaving this place to go fuck his face with my blade. As I recall what happened to Jameson, Tilly’s face pales as well as Marcus’s. I figured Tilly would be disgusted by the information, but Marcus’s reaction takes me aback.
“What?” Perching my elbow on the table, I move my fork between them. “What are these looks for?”
Marcus and Tilly look at one another, then she answers. “Darling, did you say Ronald McKinley? Red hair?”
I nod, taking a bite out of my shepherd’s pie. Then Tilly begins recollecting and explaining her prior relationship with Ronald. How he showed up for her latest luncheon with her parents. Their family business moved to Lockham not to begin a partnership with The Aftons, but to create some sick ploy to manipulate Tilly to move back home.
The feeling that twists in my gut is indescribable. My nostrils flare as I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Bobby?” Tilly reaches for my arm, but I stand from the table.
“I love you both, but I don’t have time for this shit. For Ronald. He is a threat and I need to neutralize the threat, money and partnership be damned.” I begin laughing hysterically, Marcus and Tilly have concern looming over their features.
Hostile thoughts encompass my mind, as I roll my neck, cracking some sections. I want fire. I want to do appalling, animalistic things to this fucker.
“You sure this is him?” I ask, my impatience seeping throughout the room.
Tilly nods her head. “I think so, but why don’t you have Marcus go with you to verify it is him. He saw him at the luncheon. Biscuit is downstairs and I can have him and one of the other men come with me to finish my shift.”
“Tilly,Iwill pick out two other men to accompany Biscuit and you. I will not have you taken from me, again.” I speak with forced composure, but the anger still seeps out from my pores.
