♫ Gasoline - Halsey ♫
I stared at the note on my desk for a good ten minutes, reading the finely scripted message over and over again.
Enraged.
Scandalized.
Befuddled.
I felt a little bit of everything as I sat back in my throne and clenched my hands around the arm rests to keep myself in place. I was ready to run a rampage through the streets until I found this wanker and dragged him to hell.
Let’s chat, shall we?
Was he serious?
Did he think this little charade would grapple my attention in a good way? That I’d be impressed and oh so very pleased to meet with him for a fucking chat?
Piss off with that shit.
How the hell did he expect for us to chat when I didn’t know a thing about him. Not one damn thing. I didn’t even know who he was, for fucks sake.
Clearly, he knew all about me, though. Knew where to find me, how to hurt me. Something that never should’ve happened when I paid Roscoe good money to man the cams overnight.
Where the hell was he during this fiasco?
I didn’t hear a single word from him until 7 this morning and he sounded utterly baffled as he delivered the news. Claimed the alarm system never triggered during the hours Phantom and his boys waltzed right in and destroyed everything.
Because that’s what they’d done, destroyed everything I’d worked so hard to build in under ten minutes, and it all happened in perfect succession, too.
Phantom came into view first, alone. He glanced around, then inched up on his toes to stare into the lens, his masked face cocking around in a creepy fashion. On his signal, the rest of his calvary trickled into the frame, all masked as well. I swear I counted at least thirty bodies filtering in after Phantom somehow bypassed the lock code. Worst part was not seeing how he did it. Smart ass turned his back and blocked out the view. Once the last guy slipped inside, he offered a two-finger salute and slipped his way inside as well, like he owned the damn place.
Cunt.
By this point, I’d watched the footage over twenty times, speculating a little harder and focusing on something else each time around in hopes of finding a clue.
But there was nothing.
No clues.
No finger prints.
No trails.
Nothing.
The more I thought about it, the more my temper threatened to best me. I squeezed the phone in my grasp and counted to ten, silently cussing out Ellie for taking so long to pick up my call. What was she doing out there?
“What’s up, L?” she answered after a beat, slightly out of breath.
“I need Vic and Roscoe in here, stat,” I growled.
“Will d—”
Click.
I slammed the phone down so hard, I’m surprised I didn’t crack the damn thing, my chest heaving like I’d just ran a mile. I hadn’t been this infuriated in a long time. Wasn’t my PA’s fault, I knew that, but the girl was rather oblivious sometimes and I was on the verge of a breakdown. I needed answers and I needed them now.
Time seemed to stand still as I waited for Vic and Roscoe to show their mugs. What part of ASAP didn’t they understand? In reality, I didn’t wait anymore than ten minutes, but that was two minutes too long. Didn’t take that long to walk their asses up the stairs, which led me to wonder where they were and what they were doing.
Two abrupt knocks at my doors cut my rumination short.
“Come in!” I bellowed, minimizing all the open search windows on my screen and pulling up the security footage.
Vic poked his head inside. “You wanted to see us?” he asked gingerly.
I assumed Roscoe was right behind him, probably cowering like a scolded dog with his tail between his legs. Took every ounce of restraint within me not to roll my eyes. He wouldn’t be cowering if he’d done his blasted job right.
“Sit,” I bit out, motioning toward the empty seats facing my desk.
Vic cleared his throat and gave a little nod, sauntering in first. Roscoe was promptly in tow as suspected. Neither one dared to make eye contact with me as they dropped into the wingback chairs, one fiddling with his silk tie while the other picked at his enormous finger nails.
They were so skittish, they would’ve bowed at my feet had I asked them to.
I almost laughed, but this wasn’t amusing enough to lighten my mood. There was some serious shit to be discussed, and they better hoped they had the right answers…in the shortest amount of words possible. I wasn’t about to sit here all day with them and waste more time.
“I’ve spent the entire morning watching the security footage over and over again,” I started, turning the computer screen toward them. “And I keep coming back to the same questions. Who the bloody hell is he? How the fuck did he know where to find me? And lastly, what in the ever loving motherfuck does he want?”
“We don’t know,” Vic answered quietly. He had the nerve to look sheepish while he was at it.
“We don’t know is not an option. I told you last week I wanted all the details by Monday, and well, today is Monday, Vic, so where are my details?”
“No one knows anything. I searched high and low all weekend, and there’s nothing. Zilch. Nada. He’s clean as fuck.”
No one is perfect, idiot.
“Then how did Hector know he was from New York?” I quizzed, leaning onto my elbows.
“I told you, he overheard his boys talking about it. They have Poker night every week. Hector got there late and walked in on them discussing it.”
“So where are his boys?”
“Gone,” he deadpanned.
This time, I did laugh—softly, as I rose onto my feet and ambled around the desk. My patience had about reached its end.
“Of course they are. How convenient.”
Green eyes narrowed defensively. “What are you trying to say, L?”
“I’m saying it’s pretty damn convenient that his men just vanished into thin air, when they’re the only ones who can help us at this point in time,” I clarified.
“I swear to you, I’ve turned Miami upside down looking for them and any clues as to who this phantom is—”
“Any yet you’ve come up empty handed, so quite obviously you didn’t look hard enough. Pro tip—look harder, Vic, look real fucking hard; between the lines, in every damn crevice, because the hit I’m taking no thanks to this asshole isn’t a goddamn joke! Do you know how much product I have to replace out of pocket? How many orders for Black Widow need to be duplicated and sent out express? How much supplies needs to be ordered? How many machines need repairs? Again, all out of pocket. He. Fucked. Me. And now I want his balls on a silver platter,” I bit out, literally tasting the venom dripping off my words.
This faceless, nefarious man was evoking the darkest of hate within me and I didn’t even know who he was.
“I’ll find him,” Vic vowed, snapping my gaze back to where he sat.
The meager smirk he offered pissed me right the hell off. What could he possibly have to smile about? His ass was grass if he didn’t get his shit together.
“Damn right you will or you can expect a severe decrease in your hours and your salary. I don’t pay you to do mediocre work.”
Vic nodded and nonchalantly turned towards Roscoe, reminding me of the giant’s presence. Regret and guilt made up his massive aura. His posture, his demeanor, everything.
Good.
“What the hell were you doing while this shit show was going on?” I asked him, crossing my arms.
Roscoe eyed me cautiously, beads of sweat accumulating at his temples. His mouth popped open several times as he tried to work out a plausible explanation, but words seemed to elude him. You’d never think a man of his size was capable of such intimidation.
And I was going easy on him.
“I passed out, Lux,” he finally answered. “I’m sorry—it wasn’t intentional. The wife has been on my ass lately and I’m just… I’m exhausted.”
“You’re exhausted?” I puffed out incredulously.
Roscoe nodded, scrubbing a hand down the back of his buzzed head.
“Did it occur to you that sharing that information with me might’ve been beneficial to both you and I? Not only would it have ensured the security of my business, it would have given you the time you needed to rest. You know I’m pretty lenient when it comes to time off.”
“I know, but I didn’t want to waste time off because I’m tired. Yessika would kill me.”
“Yeah? And now I’m about to kill you. You fucked up, Roscoe—you fucked up royally. I’m going to lose so much money, and possibly customers on both ends because you fell asleep. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put your ass out on the street and bill you for my upcoming expenses?”
“It won’t happen again, Lux, I swear,” he blurted out, legs bouncing restlessly.
The sweat at his temples was a full sheen now. Nervous wasn’t enough of a word to properly describe the state of this man.
“That’s right,” I leaned toward him, feeding off his vulnerability, “because there won’t be a next time. Understood?”
He nodded briskly. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Wonderful. Now both of you, go find…something.” I shooed them away. “And that still includes Hector’s circle.”
“What if we can’t?” That was Vic as he rose to full height, straightening his ivy green suit jacket.
I stared at him for several moments, wondering how fucking stupid he could be. Apparently, more than I thought possible.
“You better,” was all I offered, stalking back around desk. “Or we’re going to have problems. Serious problems.”