Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“I wasn’t fucking anyone. I went for a release.”
“Blood release. You are fucked, you know that, right?”
“So?”
He shakes his head. “Just saying, we are all a little fucked, but you—”
“I know, majorly fucked.”
He pulls into Pops’s driveway and gets out before I do.
I give my head a quick shake to clear my thoughts. I can’t be thinking of her, not when I’m about to go in here and discuss shit I am not happy about.
Pops was our lifeline, and we owe a lot to him. He made us who we are, and in return, we made him rich. Filthy fucking rich. And we all think that we’ve paid our dues, but I have feeling he doesn’t see things that way.
“Keep calm,” Kyson says.
Pops is already at the door, opening it with a smile before we even get there.
“Boys, what a surprise, both of you at once, its been a while.” He waves a hand and lets us in. Kyson goes in first, and I follow close behind.
Pops places a hand on my shoulder. “Where have you been, son? I give you jobs and hardly see you anymore.”
Kyson looks back over his shoulder and says nothing as we reach the sitting room. It’s just us, no women around like there usually is.
It’s eerily quiet.
“We need to talk,” I tell him.
He drops his hand and takes a seat on the sofa.
I stay standing, and Kyson sits in a recliner with ease.
“What’s wrong?” Pops’s gaze jumps between us.
“Why would you assume something is wrong?” I ask.
His attention falls to Kyson. “Because it’s been a long time since you both were here,” he says, looking back at me.
“That hit you had me do. Oakland… The detective…” Kyson starts.
I study Pops and watch how he reacts to Kyson’s words.
“I know why you sent me.”
“And why is that, son?”
“You want me to clean up your mess,” Kyson answers.
Pops raises a brow at me. “You believe him?”
“I met with Jessica,” I tell him, and his eyes narrow. “I’ve seen the photos.”
“That was nothing, just a little fun.” He waves it off.
“And the men?” I ask. “Are you training again?”
“No, why would I do that when I have all of you?”
“You fuck underage women often, Pops?” Kyson asks.
“She was seventeen, barely fucking underage,” Pops scoffs.
“And the one the governor was with?” I ask.
He turns to me. “You’ve never questioned hits before. And what? Now you think you should? Have you been thinking that all hits are aboveboard? Have you ever thought that maybe you’ve been killing innocent people?”
“I know we have,” I tell him. “Or did you forget who I am?”
“I know who you are, Kenzo. I made you who you are. How is your wife?” He smirks.
I step forward, and Kyson stands and places a hand on my shoulder.
“I’d be real careful, son. No matter what you think, or who you think you are, I created you. None of you can come in here and threaten me. Now, get the fuck out of my house and think about what you’ve just done.”
“I think you forget who I am,” I state, stepping in closer. I hear the sound of footsteps and know it’s his drugged-up crackhead of a wife. Before I can even think better of it, I lean in. “You make me sick and worse…you disappoint me. If I hear one more tale about you fucking anyone underage, I’ll take you to the grave myself.”
He goes to speak, but I reach for my gun, which Kyson has tucked in the back of his jeans and pull it out. I look Pops in the eyes and shoot straight into his wife’s head. Brain matter splatters against the closest wall, and I hear her drop to the floor like the piece of shit she is. Pops stares at me, anger evident in his eyes.
“We don’t associate with scum. You better tell your governor friend I’m coming for him.” I turn and stride out the door with Kyson following, and the minute we’re outside, he pushes me into the bushes. I fall, barely managing to catch myself from landing face-first in the mulch, and when I straighten, he’s standing there scowling at me.
“You just signed our death warrants. You damn idiot!” The words are growled, and I know he means business.
I scoff. “He wouldn’t kill us. We make him too much money.”
“That depends. We have no idea how far along Pops is training his other assassins.”
Fuck.
Seventeen
Mayve
It’s been a month, and there’s been no sign of him.
I don’t even know how to find him if I want to.
I’ve been contemplating removing the ring, but I love it. And I like wearing it.
Vanessa has kept her distance, and Jeff has been so impressed he gave me another pay rise. To say I was shocked is an understatement. I wonder if he knows his biggest client is in the mafia. Probably not. Because I wouldn’t have known if it wasn’t for Kenzo.