Better When He's Bold
Page 31
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“You don’t think he coulda put a bullet in the guy who roughed up Honor?”
“I know he could have put a bullet in him, only I was there and the guy was alive when I left. Nassir wouldn’t kill a guy and just toss him out the back door. He’s fucked, but not that fucked. And the kid . . .” I shook my head sadly. “That was unnecessary. He was just a dumb jock who lost a bet; there is no reason he should be in an alley with his neck broken.”
“Whoever is behind it means business, and I think this is probably just the start of it.”
“I know.”
“You going to be able to handle it?”
“Everyone keeps asking me that. I’m not sure what other options I have. I let go and someone else takes over the city, runs it right back to where Novak had it. Not to mention, if I do that, I prove to everyone that I really am nothing more than a bored rich kid playing at being a criminal. My ego alone won’t stand for that.”
He chuckled.
“I saw the BMW on the video from last night. You and the icy blonde, huh?”
I lifted an eyebrow and knocked him on the edge of the shoulder with my fist.
“If it was me and the blonde, I would be in a far better mood than I am now and I wouldn’t have let Titus stick around for nearly as long as he did. She’s got some trouble brewing, and I just want to help her out. Did Dovie ever mention if she noticed anyone giving Brysen a hard time?”
He lifted an eyebrow at me and rubbed his thumb along the edge of his jaw. The star that was tattooed by his eye crinkled a little as he squinted in thought.
“I don’t think so, but I don’t listen to all the girly crap. I think she lives with her folks or something, though. Kinda hard to have a man if you can’t give him anything to look forward to coming home to.”
I agreed, but after that phone call last night, I was starting to think her reasons for living at home were as complex and as deep as my reasons for wanting to keep my finger firmly on the pulse of the Point.
“True. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to find out. Maybe mention to my sister that her friend has an unwanted admirer and let her know to keep her eyes open when they are together.”
The corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes went a scary, flat black. “Dovie gets hurt because someone has it in for her little friend and I will destroy anyone and anything involved.”
Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.
“None of us live in a bubble, my friend. We all gotta look out for one another because no one else gives a shit if we make it out alive.”
He grunted in agreement and turned back to the Jaguar he was in the middle of pulling the engine out of. Bax was always a man of few words.
I went to the Mustang and cruised through the city until I got to the old dog-food factory that was Nassir’s main base of operations. It was the big club, the big draw for kids from all over the city. It was hidden, hard to find, impossible to get into if you didn’t know someone, and totally different on the outside than it was on the inside. In the harsh light of day it looked like any dilapidated building that had been foreclosed on. But at night, when the sun went down and the miscreants came out to play, it was a hive of activity and on trend with any fancy nightclub in any major metropolitan city in the world.
Some nights it was a rave. Some nights it was a disco. Some nights it was a dirty, brutal fight club. Some nights it was den of sex and debauchery. Whatever the masses wanted, whatever the people clamored for, Nassir gave it to them—and then some. He really was a brilliant businessman on top of being a stone-cold killer and a soulless monster.
I walked down a set of rickety stairs that barely felt like they would hold my weight. At the end was a giant metal door that had a keypad entry similar to the ones installed at the garage. I punched in the code and waited for the approval from whoever was monitoring the security on the inside to open the door all the way. The hallways were empty and smelled like sweat and sex. Like every bad thing that had ever been done inside these walls had sunk into the concrete and just permeated the entire place. I went through another secure door, made my way across the vacant floor of the factory, which just looked industrial and run-down in the daytime, went behind the bar, and climbed a wrought-iron set of stairs that led to the VIP section, which was really just the old catwalks of the factory, and to the back office where I knew Nassir spent most of the day.
His office was as different from the run-down, desolate vibe of the rest of the warehouse as it could be. The entire place was enclosed in smoky, one-way glass that I knew was bulletproof and soundproof. He had monitors that covered the entire wall behind his desk that almost gave the security at the garage a run for its money. His desk was a black lacquer behemoth that sat on a polished marble floor. Nassir was a flashy guy, but he was also a lethal predator. No one that walked into this office would ever be fooled into thinking they were just there for a simple business meeting.
“I know he could have put a bullet in him, only I was there and the guy was alive when I left. Nassir wouldn’t kill a guy and just toss him out the back door. He’s fucked, but not that fucked. And the kid . . .” I shook my head sadly. “That was unnecessary. He was just a dumb jock who lost a bet; there is no reason he should be in an alley with his neck broken.”
“Whoever is behind it means business, and I think this is probably just the start of it.”
“I know.”
“You going to be able to handle it?”
“Everyone keeps asking me that. I’m not sure what other options I have. I let go and someone else takes over the city, runs it right back to where Novak had it. Not to mention, if I do that, I prove to everyone that I really am nothing more than a bored rich kid playing at being a criminal. My ego alone won’t stand for that.”
He chuckled.
“I saw the BMW on the video from last night. You and the icy blonde, huh?”
I lifted an eyebrow and knocked him on the edge of the shoulder with my fist.
“If it was me and the blonde, I would be in a far better mood than I am now and I wouldn’t have let Titus stick around for nearly as long as he did. She’s got some trouble brewing, and I just want to help her out. Did Dovie ever mention if she noticed anyone giving Brysen a hard time?”
He lifted an eyebrow at me and rubbed his thumb along the edge of his jaw. The star that was tattooed by his eye crinkled a little as he squinted in thought.
“I don’t think so, but I don’t listen to all the girly crap. I think she lives with her folks or something, though. Kinda hard to have a man if you can’t give him anything to look forward to coming home to.”
I agreed, but after that phone call last night, I was starting to think her reasons for living at home were as complex and as deep as my reasons for wanting to keep my finger firmly on the pulse of the Point.
“True. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to find out. Maybe mention to my sister that her friend has an unwanted admirer and let her know to keep her eyes open when they are together.”
The corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes went a scary, flat black. “Dovie gets hurt because someone has it in for her little friend and I will destroy anyone and anything involved.”
Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.
“None of us live in a bubble, my friend. We all gotta look out for one another because no one else gives a shit if we make it out alive.”
He grunted in agreement and turned back to the Jaguar he was in the middle of pulling the engine out of. Bax was always a man of few words.
I went to the Mustang and cruised through the city until I got to the old dog-food factory that was Nassir’s main base of operations. It was the big club, the big draw for kids from all over the city. It was hidden, hard to find, impossible to get into if you didn’t know someone, and totally different on the outside than it was on the inside. In the harsh light of day it looked like any dilapidated building that had been foreclosed on. But at night, when the sun went down and the miscreants came out to play, it was a hive of activity and on trend with any fancy nightclub in any major metropolitan city in the world.
Some nights it was a rave. Some nights it was a disco. Some nights it was a dirty, brutal fight club. Some nights it was den of sex and debauchery. Whatever the masses wanted, whatever the people clamored for, Nassir gave it to them—and then some. He really was a brilliant businessman on top of being a stone-cold killer and a soulless monster.
I walked down a set of rickety stairs that barely felt like they would hold my weight. At the end was a giant metal door that had a keypad entry similar to the ones installed at the garage. I punched in the code and waited for the approval from whoever was monitoring the security on the inside to open the door all the way. The hallways were empty and smelled like sweat and sex. Like every bad thing that had ever been done inside these walls had sunk into the concrete and just permeated the entire place. I went through another secure door, made my way across the vacant floor of the factory, which just looked industrial and run-down in the daytime, went behind the bar, and climbed a wrought-iron set of stairs that led to the VIP section, which was really just the old catwalks of the factory, and to the back office where I knew Nassir spent most of the day.
His office was as different from the run-down, desolate vibe of the rest of the warehouse as it could be. The entire place was enclosed in smoky, one-way glass that I knew was bulletproof and soundproof. He had monitors that covered the entire wall behind his desk that almost gave the security at the garage a run for its money. His desk was a black lacquer behemoth that sat on a polished marble floor. Nassir was a flashy guy, but he was also a lethal predator. No one that walked into this office would ever be fooled into thinking they were just there for a simple business meeting.
