Chapter 7
Tyler
I practically skipped down the stairs like a twelve-year-old girl. I’d never been this happy, not even when Shelby and I had first started dating months ago. Every minute we’d spent together had filled me with unadulterated joy. And I wasn’t an ‘unadulterated joy’ kind of guy.
I’d left Shelby’s apartment early. She had work and I’d received a text from Abernathy about another job. Obviously, I wasn’t interested in another job, but I couldn’t let him know that.
I had to maintain a low profile until I was prepared implement my escape plan.
Hopefully, whatever Abernathy had in store for me wasn’t anything related to murders or framing politicians for them. That was the polar opposite of keeping a low profile.
I opened the door to the parlor and stepped inside. A couple of businessmen sat at the tables. Charles waved from his usual spot, sober for once. He gestured for me to join him, but I waved off the invitation.
Spending time at the Society’s headquarters gave me the creeps, now. My skin prickled. I didn’t spot bloodsucker Colin anywhere. He’d probably found another victim.
Abernathy wasn’t around, either, but that was expected – he made me wait most days.
The door clicked behind me and cold wind swatted the back of my neck. The displacement of air.
“Move,” Anthony spoke behind me. “You’re in my way.”
I didn’t step aside. I grinned and turned my head. “What’s wrong, Anthony?” I asked. “You touchy about something?”
He’d looked ready to rip his fucking hair out at the restaurant last night. Asshole had done that to himself.
“Get out of my way.”
A couple of the guys at the tables closest to the entrance looked up. They frowned at Anthony. Nobody liked the cunt for a reason. He lauded his connection to Abernathy over everyone. He’d thought that silver spoon would feed him power and popularity and man, he’d been wrong.
But I wasn’t stupid. I couldn’t risk a brawl in the middle of the Society’s HQ. People would talk and ask questions, and the attention I’d get would put my plans at risk.
I strolled out of his path and dragged a chair away from an empty table.
Anthony didn’t shift. He glared at me. “This isn’t over.”
“Huh?” I sat down, kicked another chair around, then perched the heels of my boots on the seat.
“You think this is over and it’s not. Shelby’s going to know about you,” Anthony hissed.
Fuck it. The guy wouldn’t quit. I threw caution to the damn wind because things couldn’t go wrong with Shelby now. I was on cloud nine and Anthony was down in the dirt. He was beneath me. I’d crush him under my boot like a spent cigarette.
“That’s what’s bothering you?” I asked. “Man, you had to know you never stood a chance. You did this to yourself, brother.”
“You’re not my brother.”
I crossed myself. “God forbid. Listen, though, Shelby told me you hit on her and she rejected you over and over and over again. I admire your – uh, what’s the phrase I’m looking for? Dumb persistence.”
Everyone in the parlor had quieted now. All eyes on us. Fine, let them look. Let them notice the damn altercation. If it got heated, I’d back out before he threw a punch. After all, if I didn’t haze Anthony, it would seem suspicious to folks in here.
“You’re treading on thin ice,” Anthony said.
“Oh yeah?” I laughed. “I’m fucking terrified, man. You scare me. No really, I’m shaking in my fucking boots.” I tapped the toes of my boots together. “What do you want, Anthony? You want Shelby? Is that it?”
He cracked his knuckles. The motion didn’t suit that rich boy haircut and suit. The kid hadn’t fought a day in his life. He’d gained those muscles from a gym, not a hard knock life.
“I don’t get it, Anthony. You weren’t into Shelby in the beginning. I thought this was all a game to you,” I said. “A way to get back at me because you’re worried I’m stealing your dose of daddy attention.”
“Shut up!” Anthony roared.
“Oh, touched a nerve.” I chuckled.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. None. You’re a peon here. Grunt. You’re nothing to the Society and you never will be. And you’re nothing to Shelby, either. You’re not a real man.”
I laughed again – it infuriated him. “What are you talking about man? We’re on the same level. Initiates, baby. Remember?” I loved throwing that in his face. He made it easy to push his buttons.
“I’m nothing like you. Ask anyone in here. They know who’s got the real power in this organization.” He drew himself straight in that ridiculous fucking suit. Man, what a waste of money.
“Yeah, totally. They know neither of us has any power here. I don’t, and you don’t.” I pointed first at my chest and then at his. “Listen, though, I’ve got a meeting with your dad in a few minutes and I’m sure he’ll want to talk to me without you hanging around.”
“You’re going to –”
“What’s going on?” George shut the door to the offices behind him and frowned at us. “I heard yelling.”
The other businessmen focused on their drinks or averted their gazes. No one would look at us, now.
George wasn’t the highest in their business cult, but he ranked closer to Abernathy and the other hooded figures than to us or any of the other members in the parlor. He narrowed his eyes at me and then at Anthony.
Distaste replaced suspicion at the sight of the younger Abernathy. He could act professional all he wanted, but George didn’t like Anthony, either. He liked me, but he wouldn’t take sides. He was on one side always – the Society’s.
“Are you causing a disturbance?” George asked.
“I’m not,” I said, and sat back. I glanced at Charles and winked. My buddy gave me two thumbs up and hooted a laugh.
George pressed two fingers to the wrinkles in the center of his forehead. “This isn’t the place for disagreements. You should know better than that, Abernathy.”
Oh ho, that had to sting.
Anthony gritted his teeth – sounded like he was grinding wheat in there – and a muscle twitched in his cheek.
“And in case you didn’t know, Tyler, we don’t have arguments in the parlor. If you’ve got a dispute, settle it outside.”
“Yeah, but then I’d have to climb all those stairs again,” I said.
Charles laughed. A couple of the other guys jumped at the sudden noise.
“Killer,” Charles said. “You’re so funny, Ty.”
“Why don’t you suck his cock?” Anthony asked. “Be quicker than blowing smoke up his ass like this.”
“Fuck you, you little twat.” Charles staggered out of his seat. Okay, perhaps I’d been wrong about his sobriety. “I’ll take it outside with you if Tyler won’t. You need to have that big head deflated.”
One of the guys at a table nearby nodded agreement. Everybody liked Charles, too. It was hard not to like a guy who poured drinks for you. Especially when those drinks cost more than your wardrobe.
“Enough,” George said. “If you don’t calm down I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
I puzzled on that. George wasn’t tiny, but he didn’t have the strength to pull both of them out of here. And he didn’t stand a chance with me. I wasn’t blowing my own dam horn here, but I wasn’t tiny and I’d grown up fighting for jobs on the streets.
Anthony remained in place, frozen and staring at me instead of Charles, though I hadn’t technically insulted him.
“Whatever,” Charles said, and dropped back into his seat.
George shook his head. He lowered his voice so only I could hear. “If Charlie doesn’t stop this soon he’s going to run into trouble. That’s not proper society behavior.”
“What’s that?” Charles yelled.
The door to the offices opened again and Colin appeared. His waxen cheeks and sunken eye sockets put an end to all conversation. The men at the tables shifted and resumed their hushed conversations. They took measured sips of their booze. Scotch, bourbon, whatever suited their fancy. Nobody made eye contact with the ghoul.
George straightened his tie and made his way over to Colin. The two shared a whispered conversation, then entered the passage again. The door clicked shut behind them. I didn’t bother wondering what they’d discussed. I could only pray it had nothing to do with me.
Charles glared at Anthony, swaying from side-to-side.
“It’s okay, Charlie,” I said, and pushed a palm toward him. “I’ve got this.”
Anthony finally moved. He walked to my seat and bumped my feet off the chair opposite. He didn’t sit down. “You’re going to regret this, Stone.”
“I regret nothing. Least of all putting your dumb ass in its place,” I said, and took my lucky silver dollar out of my pocket. I rolled it across the backs of my fingers – I’d spent years practicing this damn trick. Finally, it’d been put to use.
“Shelby is mine,” Anthony said. “She just hasn’t realized it yet.”
“Shelby doesn’t belong to anyone,” I replied. “She’s a woman, not a pet. And she isn’t interested in you, buddy.” I continued rolling that coin and Anthony tracked its path, brow wrinkling up.
His expression cleared. “We’ll see about that,” he said. “We’ll just fucking see about that.”
Anthony spun and marched for the exit, holding his fists at his side.
I got up, too. I had a bad feeling about this. The way he’s said that last bit… He was up to something. I followed him, walking in the slipstream of his too-strong cologne.
Anthony’s footsteps rattled up the stairs and I increased my pace.
“Tyler Stone.” Greg Abernathy appeared in front of me, holding a manila envelope. “Just the man I wanted to see. I’ve got –”
“A job for me. Yeah, I know.” I hopped from foot to foot.
Abernathy tilted his head to one side – the picture of an eagle sizing up its prey. No, a vulture. “Is there a problem, Tyler?”
“No.”
“Good. If you successfully complete this job, it may open the pathway to becoming a member. You would like to be a member, I assume?”
“Of course, Greg,” I lied. I’d like nothing less.
“Follow the instructions carefully, Tyler. It’s high stakes. Everything we do from here on out is high stakes,” Abernathy said, and handed me the envelope.
I took it and tucked it into my back pocket. “Thanks. I’ll bear that in mind.” I craned my neck and peered past him. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I had a real bad feeling about this. My gut twisted and I pictured Anthony and Shelby together.
Why? Why now? What the hell had he meant –?
“Stay a while,” Abernathy said, and gestured to one of the tables. “Let’s discuss your future at the Society.”
“I can’t,” I said.
He raised one of those silver fox eyebrows. “You have somewhere else to be?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a family emergency.” The lie slipped off my tongue like butter off a hot steak. “I’ve got to go to the hospital.”
“I assume this won’t affect your ability to complete the job,” he said. Ah, so sympathetic. He obviously cared about my fake troubles, deeply. Or he’d figured out I’d lied.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Thanks for the opportunity.” I squished past him and ran for the stairs, that unease curdling my breakfast.