Part 17 (1/2)
”What's that?”
”You're going to see exactly what it is I do, specifically, for someone in need. Maybe I can convince you that I'm not at all as bad as you think I am.”
This isn't possible. No one could convince me Viktor sells women for any reason other than to line his own pockets.
Rather than voice my opinion, I inquire, ”Time?”
”Eleven. There's someone coming in from the city. A man by the name of Dextor Ahrens. He's in the same business I am, but he's more global, for lack of a better term. And I've just found out he's interested in one of my girls.”
”Dextor Ahrens?” I ask, even though I'm sure I'm not familiar with the name. I would like more information to pa.s.s to Brayden or Aimes, if I can get back in contact, though.
”Yes,” he replies, but gives nothing more.
”Which girl?”
”That is not your concern,” he answers, completely dismissing my question. ”We'll be holding it right here in my office.”
”Okay,” I confirm, but with the tightness in his face, I immediately sense he's not finished.
Lifting his finger to his mouth, crossing his other arm over his chest and looking down, Viktor gets to the crux of my position and does so in such a way nothing is left to doubt. ”You're not to say anything during this meeting. You're not to discuss any offers or counters as the meeting continues, and you're to have no contact with those present in the meeting once they're gone. The consequences of doing any of these will cost someone close to you their life.”
Point taken.
”Understood,” I a.s.sure.
”Good,” he confirms.
I start to stand, and as I do, Viktor stands with me. ”So, you really sent Hoss and his crew out today?”
”I did. The men in this establishment wear me down, Max. At one time, I believed I had a place here, that I was doing good things. But it's been made clear by those who dwell here and their hideous behavior that I don't belong. They're exhausting. They're not like you and me. They're more...”
”They aren't the savoring kind,” I return lightly with a smirk of my own.
Slapping me on the shoulder as I step through the threshold and out in the hall, Viktor replies with a wicked grin, ”They aren't men I'd miss if I had them all killed. Put it that way.”
A bone chilling cold settles over me hearing him speak so boldly and unattached regarding death. Under his ruse of attempted friends.h.i.+p, I had momentarily forgotten who I was dealing with.
”Tonight,” I confirm tightly.
Turning around and walking back down the hall, I hear Viktor's office door close. I don't chance to look around to see which side of it he's standing on and instead just get going. I want to go home.
Chapter Twenty-One.
I've been away from my apartment only for a night and part of today, but I come home from the club to find Em has rearranged furniture, drawers, cleaned out the cabinets, and ironed all of my f.u.c.king tee s.h.i.+rts.
Apparently, when Em is stressed, she uses her energy to clean so she can exhaust herself. This isn't something I had known about her before, but I do now and it helps lighten my mood, even in the midst of all the h.e.l.l around me.
Standing outside on my apartment balcony, I grab my phone to call and find out where she's gone. I didn't get home until about twenty minutes ago, and there wasn't a note. Since I've been so out of touch, I hadn't checked in on her schedule for the week.
”Where are you?” I ask when she answers on the third ring. I hear the crowd around her, so I know she's not working.
”Shopping,” she breathes, and she sounds exhausted.
”Shopping where?”
Not answering my question, Emma gives me notice as to why she sounds as she does. ”Max, did you know your mom is a price-matching scavenger?”
”You're with Mom?”
”I am,” she confirms. I hear my mother asking her something in the background and then hear Em attempt to keep her quiet. ”We're coming home soon. Where are you?”
”You did my laundry.” It's not a question.
Her surprise is genuine. ”You're at the apartment now?”
”Yes, baby. I told you I was coming back as soon as I could.”
”He's home now?” I hear my mom cut in from a distance.
I hear Emma cover the phone with her hand and attempt to calm my mother. I look up to the sky and wonder why I bothered calling. Those two yap like chickens.
”We'll be there in about an hour. Call Tommy?”
”Thought I'd call you first,” I inform her. It's good to hear her voice, to know she hasn't been sitting here in the apartment and in constant worry. If anyone can do that, it's my mom, and I'm thankful.
Her voice gets soft as she replies, ”Thank you, but call him now.”
”Don't be bossy. Let me go and I'll call him now.”
Em breathes her relief into the phone then says, ”Good. I'll see you soon.”
”Okay, baby. I'll be here.”
”I love you, Max.”
”See you soon,” I answer before hanging up.
I know Tommy and since all this started I also know he's done nothing but sit around and be sick with worry. I feel bad about it, but there's nothing more I can do except keep him in the loop and check in to remind him I'm okay.
After I dial, he answers on the first ring as I figured he would. I hear the apprehension in his voice. ”Max. Where are you?”
”Home, for now.”
”Thank f.u.c.k. I've been waitin' to hear if you've heard anything from Aimes or Low.”
I picture Tommy pacing the floor between time spent keeping Denver in line and making sure Natalie's happy. He spends his life loving and caring for them both.