JACK
I waited in the one too many private lounges The Bayne Hotel had. It’d been cleared out by Emilio when I texted him, ‘Let’s talk.’ A meeting in which I’ll have to turn into a little bitch and ask Big Daddy for permission.
I bit my knuckle and looked at my phone. Minutes were moving too fast for my speed. I needed more time. I needed time to fucking stop so that I could get everything set. I bit my knuckle harder, leaving an imprint of my teeth in my skin.
Growling loudly, I raked my hair back, my elbows digging into my thighs. I pulled on my hair, a small jolt of pain shocking my body. I haven't slept in over a day. Shit, I don’t know my many hours I’m running on. Twenty-eight? Thirty-seven?
Who the fuck knew and who the fuck cared.
All I was worried about was Ahri.
Knowing that Ahri was upstairs sleeping in my bed was the only thing letting my soul relax. I’d even borrowed a few of Emilio’s many eyes to watch the floor to make sure Ahri didn't leave. I didn’t think she would. But, there was a lot to take in. You know, with me lying my ass off. Lucky for her, when she wakes up, she’ll discover the little scavenger hunt I’d left that will clear up some things. I didn’t lie about everything like she thought I did. I had proof.
So much fucking proof.
It didn’t take Ahri more than two seconds to fall asleep. She exhausted herself from crying her eyes out and needed her rest. I couldn't fall asleep even if I wanted to. I was restless, antsy, and uneasy. My heart still felt as if someone was playing with it like a stress ball. The sound of her pain, the black tears, and her heart-wrenching confessions still had me in a fragile state.
What happened to Aurora was worse than what I’d expected.
And what happened to Fidget.
I took a deep breath, replaying the image of Ahri in my bed to cool myself down.
Ahri gripped Fidget's letter like a teddy bear, adjusting herself into a fetal position as she let out small breaths. She barely moved, like usual, but when I wrapped her in the covers and kissed her forehead, she’d muttered my name under her breath. That’s when I knew my decision was final. I’ll be the devil dressed in black ready to steal my last Black Kiss.
By the time Ahri would wake up, I won’t be there. I had too much shit to do, and I wasn't one for procrastinating. Never had been. Especially not when my brain was rotting. I needed to get him out of my head, my life, and Ahri and Fidget’s life. There was only one way to do that. And the sooner, the better.
I just needed Emilio.
I looked at my phone again.
10:35. 10:36.
I let out a grunt, standing up and pacing around the fancy dark themed lounge. Emilio was six minutes late. I get that he’s a busy man, canceling a meeting for me (Thanks, Emmy), but six minutes, was six fucking minutes I didn’t have to waste.
I ended up waiting another ten minutes before Emilio barged through the door, his entourage of men dressed in black suits behind him. His Knights. They stayed outside where they belonged to leave this conversation between Emilio and me.
Emilio wore an all navy suit, perfectly tailored, very business-like.
“I was betting it would be a month or two before you got bored, Jack. What happened?” Emilio laughed.
He happened.
We shook hands, then sat across from each other with a glass coffee table in between us.
“You told me I needed your permission to pull jobs. So, here I am. Asking for one job to pull. One. Fucking. Job. As much as I hate asking, I would rather not risk going behind your back. I rather not risk giving up everything I’ve spent my whole damn life getting. I’ve got some big plans that involve me not leaving The Bayne. Ever.”
Emilio’s eyebrows shot up as he gripped the chair and pulled himself up. He nodded his head sharply. I could practically hear him say: Go on, what else.
“On top of your permission. I need a lawyer. A damn good one, fuck, the best one you got. I don't care how much he costs.”
Emilio inhaled and exhaled deeply, rubbing his chin. “Is this about the girl? The one you brought in early this morning?”
No surprise. The old geezer knew who came in and out of his hotel. Wouldn't be surprised if he knew who was taking a shit or who was fucking in his hotel.
“Yea,” I gritted.
“You made it very clear you didn’t want to come out of retirement, Jack.” He paused. “Is she worth it?”
I chuckled, “She is it.”
Emilio smirked and took another deep breath. “Alright. Give me the five ‘W’s.”
“Who is he? A nobody. No name. Only a face. What happened? Personal. Where? I’m going to assume Scorch Side area. When? Today. Tonight. As soon as I find him. And why? An expired job that should have been dealt with years ago.”
Emilio leaned back in his chair, taking in the information and crossed his legs. He looked at the chair handle, scratching at the white leather.
“And the lawyer? You think you’re that rusty that you need one?”
“No, that’s for my ex-cellmates case.”
“Luke Parker Lore,” Emilio said. “The arsonist and attempted murderer?”
“Alleged,” I spoke clearly. “I need the best lawyers you’ve got.”
Emilio’s wrinkled skin creased deeper as he smiled. “I’ll give you my permission. Better yet, I’ll give you my best lawyers, and I have some connections with a few judges. You said you don’t trust me, well, you’re about to, Jack. I’ll do it all for free.” Emilio’s voice stirred up a deal I knew he was going to win.
“What’s the catch, Emmy?” I asked, but I knew what he wanted.
A glorified babysitter.
“Emmy, cute. My wife calls me that.” He laughed. “I think you know what I want Jack. Ten years of your time with no pay,” Emilio said in a dry voice.
I figured this was going to happen. The second I texted Emilio, I was delaying my retirement plan. But for Ahri? I’ll suck it up. But that didn’t mean I’m going to let my silver tongue go to waste.
“I’m not giving you more time than I did in prison. One year.”
“Four years.”
“One year.”
“Six years. Rent free.” Emilio grinned.
“One year. And I’ll pay my own damn rent,” I growled, shaking my head.
We went back and forth for a while until we finally made a deal.
Was I happy with the years? Fuck no, but the benefits were okay.
I would work for five years.
Five. Fucking. Years!
I’d be getting paid in shares and stocks, on top of having no rent or expenses. Anything associated with The Bayne Hotel was free to the Baron name.
I won’t work more than forty hours a week, and I’d get the whole month of April off as I did in the past.
Emilio wanted me that bad.
He loathed the idea of people he didn’t trust near his family just like I hated the idea of a maid cleaning my penthouse. And why wouldn’t Emilio hate this idea? He and his wife were worth billions. His son and his wife were worth billions, and so were his grandkids.
Our contract was verbal. The highest form of respect and loyalty that went both ways. Emilio was trying to see if I’ll do my job and I was going to see if I got what he promised me.
“This kill…how will it be done?” Emilio grinned.
He was thinking about my past. Not to toot my own horn, but I had some excellent stories. Some vanilla with poison and others painfully slow and gruesome, unable to identify the body type of crimes. I usually did whatever the description told me to do, but sometimes I got the people who wanted to get the shitbags out of their lives, and they didn’t give two shits how it got done. That’s when I had my fun.
Knives and fists.
“Slow and painful. Silver steel painted in red, knuckles happily sore, and fire. A big one.”
Emilio tilted his head. “Fire? Going out of your comfort zone I see.”
“Call it…poetic justice.” I smirked.