Page 52 of Corrupted Memories
Blowing out a breath, I lock my nerves away and steel myself for the worst of the evening. We march down the slanted road, walking around the side until we find the opening that most use to slip inside, but we stop short at the two cars blocking entry and the men standing there.
One by the driver door calls out, “Weapons.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’m not going in there unarmed.”
His jaw works back and forth. “Arthur insists?—”
“I don’t give a single fuck. Crawl back to your master and tell him I’ll leave before coming in unarmed. I responded to his summons out of courtesy, not obligation.”
With hateful eyes, he grunts and opens the backdoor, nodding at us to get in. Nico watches them as we climb into the back, our hands hovering over our guns. The drive farther into the space is tense and silent before they pull into one of the large empty lots on the lower level, closer to the docks. More men are gathered in a small crowd, waiting for the show to happen, given Arthur’s ever present theatrics.
“Evening, gentlemen,” I say after exiting the vehicle and tucking my hand in my pockets while glancing around, humored by this gathering.
Arthur raises his eyebrows from where he’s standing on a stage of stacked wooden pallets. He looks like a wannabe villain if I’ve ever seen one. Dirty jeans, tight navy t-shirt with slicked-back brown hair. “Just you two?”
I tilt my head to the side, pouting out my bottom lip. “I assumed there was no need. I didn’t think the head of Chicago would be purposely leading me into a trap, would he?”
He stares at me, his eyes dull and void of emotion. I would say he has a great poker face, but I know better. Arthur is a deep pit of nothing. He holds no affection for anything or anyone. He craves power and strikes enough fear in men to gain a following. It’s what gained Christian’s respect to begin with, but the patience quickly waned when Arthur’s unpredictable nature made him a liability. One that we had to clean up after more than we wanted.
“Of course not,” he rumbles, the sarcasm cutting through the tension.
Nico shifts closer to me.
Arthur watches, amused, before he throws his head back and laughs. It’s not a humorous laugh; the cruel mock of it makes a few surrounding men shudder.
“Speak your business then. Unlike yours, my time is valuable.”
Arthur’s toothy grin is a sinister sight as he pulls out a knife, licking the blade before tapping his tongue against the tip. “I heard you’ve been a very naughty boy.”
I chuckle, painting on my own fake smile. “Our definitions of naughty are not the same, but I’m flattered my adventures turn your ear.”
His eyes flash with fury before it’sgone.
“Funny guy,” he says, pointing his knife at me and then turning to look at the man standing next to him, who flinches from the eye contact. “Funny guy, right?”
In the next moment, he charges me, and I stagger back just as his knife swings toward my chest. I block his arm with mine, pushing him away as I move closer to Nico, who has pulled out his gun and has it pointed at Arthur. Unfortunately, it causes everyone around us to draw their guns.
Arthur laughs again, cracking his neck side to side. “You’re sharp for a pencil pusher.”
“I can’t remember the last time I touched a pencil. Gold-plated pen though? I have a few of those,” I say with a mocking grin.
Arthur snorts. “You think you’re better than us because you sit in that office in Manhattan? You’re nothing but the same pawn on a different side.”
Confusion twists my face. “It seems someone doesn’t quite understand chess. It’s okay, maybe we can find picture books so there aren’t so many words with the instructions.”
Fury ripples across his face, and I know I’ve pushed his last button. His arm stretches out, pointing the tip of the blade at me. “You’re fucking dead.”
“You don’t have the authority to kill my son,” my father says. The crowd he’s standingbehind flees away from him as if they’ve been set on fire and he moves closer to my side.
I raise an eyebrow, watching his unhurried steps with amusement. “Took you long enough.”
His cold eyes meet mine. “Be quiet.”
With a sigh, I hold up my hands as he faces Arthur, who watches him with deference I didn’t know he possessed. “Christian sent me to observe this little gathering. I think he would find your inability to control your temper unsuitable to run one of his cities.”
“Unsuitable?” Arthur spits on the ground. “When’s the last time Christian even set foot on US soil? I’d say he doesn’t give a fuck about us.”
A few muttered agreements ring out and my father’s eyes track around the crowd. “Is that so? You want to challenge me right now for the city?”
