Chapter 3
Tyler
I shut Colin’s office door behind me for the second time that day and ignored the bubbling pot of guilt in the pit of my stomach. Shelby had called and I’d blown her off. Shit, I’d spent the last few months pining after her and she called to have lunch while I was in the middle of ‘covert’ operations down at the Society’s HQ.
I’d catch up with her later. For now, I had to get out and back to my apartment, where I’d hidden the copies of those tax documents I’d just returned.
I strolled down the hall, did my best to look nonchalant, and nodded to a guy who peered out of his office. He didn’t nod or smile, just watched me pass by, eyes narrowed. So much for not attracting unwanted attention.
I focused on Shelby instead of discovery – that way I wouldn’t give anything away if somebody stopped me. She distracted me so fully I almost walked into the door which led out into the parlor proper.
What had she wanted to talk to me about? She’d mentioned it was serious, but nothing more than that. God, I hoped it was ‘I still love you’ serious, rather than ‘I’m pregnant’ serious. But then, would it bother me that much if she was knocked up?
No, I’d rise to the occasion. “Way to jump to conclusions,” I muttered.
I let myself into the parlor at last. Whatever Shelby had to say would have to wait until I was in the clear here. I didn’t want to face her while I was still involved with the Society. I’d lied to her before, and I didn’t enjoy the idea of lying to her again.
The minute I’d extricated myself from Abernathy’s grip, I’d give her a call. The blackmail process couldn’t take that long.
The door at the other end of the parlor, the one which led to those rickety ass stairs, slapped open and Anthony marched into the parlor, the top button of his shirt undone and his tie loose.
He looked like he’d run here, which wasn’t possible since Abernathy Junior wouldn’t run unless it was using someone else’s legs. Or it was a predetermined jog for exercise followed by a vegan smoothie and a session of flexing in front of a full length mirror.
I couldn’t have made myself small if I tried, but man, did I try. I shut the door to the offices and slunk between the tables. Charles sat in his spot, swaying from left to right and humming under his breath.
Expensive scotch did amazing things to a man. Unlocked his musical potential or the opportunity for disaster. Sometimes both. Definitely both in Charles’s case.
“Heyoooooo, Ty!” Charles yelled.
So much for that low profile. I sensed Anthony’s stare burning into the back of my neck. Oh, he’d seen me all right.
“Sup, Charlie,” I said, and sat down opposite him again.
“Get you a drink, playaaaaa.” Apparently, alcohol turned Charles into a gangsta. Or a fuckboy.
“Nah, I’m good,” I said. “I’ve had enough for one day.”
Charles stumbled upright, using the table for leverage. “You sit at my table, you got to drink.” He shuffled toward the bar and knocked into a neighboring chair. It scraped, tilted, and clattered to the floor. “Man, I’ve just been hangin’ all day. But the bourbon here makes it all worth it.”
“Why are you here today, Charlie?”
“One of my contacts fell through. They exposed me. So, I gotta keep a low profile for a couple days.” Charles leaned on the bar. “You know how it is, man.”
I had no idea how that was and I didn’t want to. “What does George think?”
“Oh fuck him. He’s always bitching.”
Quick footsteps, snap, snap, snap, approached my seat. I massaged the bridge of my nose in anticipation.
Anthony strolled around the table. He halted beside Charles’s vacated seat. “Stone,” he said.
I looked at him. Didn’t twitch a muscle to greet.
“Hey, Anthony,” Charles yelled from behind the bar – as if he wasn’t within talking range. “Hey, Anthony. Hey, man. We were just talking about you earlier. Haha, about how you’re earmarked for greatness.” He snorted and picked up a bottle. He sloshed bourbon shy of the glass and onto the bar top. “Greatness.”
“What are you doing here?” Anthony asked.
I arched an eyebrow. “I work here,” I said. “Technically, I’m an initiate.”
“Answer the question.”
“I just did.”
“Answer it truthfully,” Anthony hissed.
“Now, now, fellas, there’s no need to compare dick sizes.” Charles stumbled back with a glass for Tyler. One ice cube and a half inch of fluid. He slapped it onto the table and more of the booze leaped out. “You’re both valuable members of the Society. Although, Tyler’s a little more likable if you ask me. Ha, but that’s not something you can control, right? I suppose Anthony could be less of a dick.”
“What did you just say?” Anthony narrowed his eyes at the drunk man.
Charles wasn’t bothered in the least. “I said what I said, kid. What are you going to do about it? Run to your daddy? C’mon, man. You’re better than that. Or maybe you aren’t.”
“I need to talk to you in private, Stone.” Anthony reddened from the top of his oiled hair do to the tips of his toes.
“No thanks.”
“Whatever you got to say you can say it front of me,” Charles continued his drunk tirade. “We’re all friends here. Kind of.” He laughed at his own joke.
I pushed my chair back. “Thanks for the drink, Charles. I’ll catch you later.”
“Any time, any time. I hope you stop by for many more, kid. I like you. We all like you. Likeable. Isn’t that a weird word? Like. Like.” Charles blinked. He hadn’t noticed that I hadn’t touched the drink he’d poured for me.
I gave a final wave – which Charles didn’t register – then stuck my hands in my pockets and set off for the exit.
Anthony’s quick steps followed me. “Stop right there.”
I half-expected him to follow it up with, “This is the police.”
I ignored him.
“I know what you were doing, Stone.”
My heart palpitated. Not a manly reaction but damn, if Anthony had figured out my little plan, I’d shit a brick. “What?” I turned on him.
Sweat beaded on Abernathy’s skin. Heat rolled off him. “I know what you were doing.”
“Going home, yeah? Very perceptive of you.”
Anthony sneered. “You’re snooping. You want to bring the Society down from the inside.”
How could he possible know? Did Anthony have a detector for shadiness? Had to be built in because he was the shadiest motherfucker I’d ever met. “You’ve lost it, man.”
“Bullshit. I see what you’re doing and I’m going to talk to my dad about this.”
“Ah,” I said, thinking quick. “I see what this is about.”
“Huh?”
“Your daddy,” I replied, and chuckled. “Charlie and the gang told me all about your father’s role at the Society and how you’re just dying to follow in his footsteps. You think you’re next in line to the throne or the robes or whatever.”
Anthony’s sweat dripped to his lapel. His face turned a deeper shade of red. “Shut up.”
“Oh, I don’t think I will. The guys, they told me how you’re not fit for the job. You’re not smart enough, not popular enough to follow in Greg’s footsteps. And he knows it. He knows his kid hasn’t got what it takes.” I lowered my voice and moved closer. “But I do.”
“W-what?” Shit, he was actually shaken.
Anthony was self-involved enough to believe I was out to steal his position in the Society and in his father’s good books. Perhaps that was what he’d always worried about.
I pressed my metaphorical thumb down on his head. “That’s right. I’ve got what it takes to lead. It’s the reason Greg initiated me. He knows that you can’t take his place once he’s done, so he had to find a replacement. I’m like the surrogate son. Your big brother. So, you can tell him whatever you like, kid, but nobody’s going to buy it because they all know you’re jealous.”
Anthony worked his mouth, struggling for a reply.
“And they know you’re clueless when it comes to the Society.”
“I’m not clueless,” Anthony snapped.
I had him. “Pfft, whatever, man. Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ve got shit to do.”
“I know more than you.”
“I highly doubt that.” I swiveled my head toward the exit, built the pressure a little. Would I stay? Would I go?
“Listen to me, you fucking loser,” Anthony whispered. “The Society has been my stomping ground for longer than you’ve had ball hairs. I was in here before I could drink. You know nothing in comparison to me. Nothing.”
I stifled a yawn. “Uh huh. Is that why you’re still an initiate instead of a fully-fledged member?” It was a wild stab in the dark, but it hit its mark.
Anthony reeled back a step. “I’m an initiate until my father is ready for me to progress.” He jammed his teeth together. He wanted to say more, I could tell by the twitching muscle in his jaw.
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Your daddy knows you can’t handle what’s really going on here.”
“I know more about the Society’s plans than you could dream. They’re expanding into the other territories.”
“We all know that. We were all at the meeting.” I lifted my watch and studied it.
“The Society is power with my father at the helm. The government doesn’t even know we exist.”
“You’re not really part of that ‘we,’ though, are you? You’re on the outs. It’s not like you did anything to help hide the Society from –”
“I helped my father with our taxes. The Society hasn’t paid taxes in over a century.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot how you were a hundred years old. What was it like back then?” I stored that nugget of information away for later dissection. It would go well with the documents I’d swiped this afternoon. “You’ve done nothing, and this conversation is over.”
Anthony grabbed the sleeve of my jacket. I wrenched it free and raised my eyebrow at him.
He said, “I helped members hide their money in offshore accounts. They’re dedicated to the Society. Amounts of cash you couldn’t imagine, man. You’re too small-minded. You’re nothing. You’ll never amount to anything.”
“Whatever.”
“You think you can hang onto the Society’s coattails? You heard them at the meeting. We’re about to expand. We’ve got the money for it too, and within the coming decade we’ll be everyone. Off US soil, too. Running the fucking world.”
“And you see yourself leading them, right?” I asked.
Anthony didn’t answer but greed lined his face and sat flush with his skin.
“That will never happen,” I said. “I told you, your dad knows you can’t handle it. He doesn’t trust you to take over. Nobody around here trusts you.”
Anthony looked over at Charles, who’d finally put his head down on his arms and drifted off. He snorted. “That’s the caliber of person the Society has sunk to. Him and lowlife thieves like you. I won’t have any trouble when I take the reins from my father. Mark my words.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” I headed for the door.
“I fucked her,” Anthony said. “I fucked Shelby. She tasted so good, man. That’s what she wanted to talk to you about at lunch. She feels bad for you and she wants you to know that it’s over and we’re together at last.”
I froze, looked back at him over my shoulder. I couldn’t keep the hatred off my face. Or the anger. I balled my hand into a fist but didn’t raise it. If I hit him here, now, it was over. I’d be over. I didn’t have a doubt that Greg Abernathy could organize my death and frame someone else for the crime – another politician who suited his agenda.
I faced him again. “What?”
“That bothers you, doesn’t it? That Shelby prefers a real man over you. A man who can provide for her. Who doesn’t have to sneak around in warehouses to earn his wage,” Anthony hissed. “Because that’s all you are, Stone. You’re a low life. You’re nothing to the Society and nothing to Shelby.”
“Two things you and I have in common,” I replied. I released the fist, reached up and patted him on the shoulder.
Anthony flinched, then growled under his breath. “I fucked her.”
“I’ve had enough lies for one day, bro. I’m out.” I didn’t hurry to the door. I took my damn time so Abernathy could witness my swagger. My ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude. I didn’t believe Shelby would touch him.
She’d told me they weren’t together and I still believed that. The day I’d seen them together at the Salty Pig, he’d been pathetic. A whining wretch trying to get into her pants and she’d looked at him with pity. That look was where sex went to die.
I opened the door, then slipped into the narrow staircase beyond, turning over the new information Abernathy had let slip. The closer I got to the truth, the easier it would be to remove myself from this fuck fest.
“You’re going to die,” Anthony called out behind me. “I’ll make sure of it. You won’t last long, Stone.”
I didn’t break stride. Anthony’s threats splatted against the wall. They didn’t come close to touching me. Not because he wasn’t a threat. No, he could probably hire a damn assassin and have me killed. His threats fell flat because he wouldn’t act without his dad’s permission. He was too afraid of failing in Abernathy’s eyes.
I took the stairs two at a time, thoughts on my plan and the fucked up image of Shelby and Anthony together.