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But that wouldn’t stop me from worrying myself sick about him anyway.
Chapter Four
~Matt~
“Jesus, why do you always sound like hell when I call you?” Griffin asked, humor clear in his tone through the receiver.
“Maybe because I’m in hell?” I blew out a sigh and grimaced at the smell of beer that wafted back into my own face.
“Rough night?”
“Rough week,” I admitted. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep eighty-seven thugs busy for five straight days? My God, I don’t even want to know how much booze and cocaine was imbibed by those assholes.”
“How much did you imbibe?” he asked.
“Booze only for me,” I said, neglecting to advise the actual amount I’d had. A lot of it within the last few hours.
“Was this all part of your coronation party?” he asked. “Or are you just completely numbing yourself with drugs and alcohol now?”
“Hey, no drugs.” Well, apart from the occasional Oxycodone that Speedball slipped me. “It wasn’t exactly a coronation party,” I said, getting back to the point. “That’s how Speedball spun it to the guys. But honestly, Eddie took off for Chicago and I thought it would be easier to put the guys on a bender than to try to make them behave while the boss was gone.” I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, the phone pressed to my head. “And it was, but damn…those boys can party.”
“What the fuck is Eddie doing in Chicago?” Griffin asked, his voice thick with concern. “You didn’t say anything about him leaving last time we talked.”
“Well, last time we talked I didn’t know about it,” I said firmly. “He sprung it on me between our calls. And all he said was that he had a job out there. But I think he just wanted to see how I’d handle the guys in his absence.”
“I don’t know,” Griffin said slowly. “He’s up to something.”
“Well, wasn’t that the point of me trying to get promoted to be his Knight in the first place? So I could try to get closer to him. Get closer to the Prince.”
The cartel’s hierarchy was kind of weird and spread out. And I was pretty sure they just made things up as they went along. I knew that there was a King, who was apparently the head of the entire cartel, though no one seemed to know anything about him. Then there were three Princes, that ran out of Detroit, New Orleans, and Dallas. Those Princes each had a Duke, which was what Eddie was. And the Dukes each had a Knight, my shiny new role, and two Rooks. Then below the Rooks were the grunts.
It was hard to keep all of that straight at first. Especially when the higher ups were more like boogey men than real people. Hell, after four years I still hadn’t so much as seen a Prince.
Which was fine with me.
I had to assume the higher up the ladder someone got, the smarter they were. And I didn’t need anyone looking too closely at what I was doing. Or rather, what I wasn’t doing.
“Earth to Matthew,” Griffin said with a low chuckle.
“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head and regretting it as my vision swam. “What?”
“I asked how you were feeling? Did your brand heal up okay?”
“Oh, yeah I guess. It bubbled a little on the edges, but it’s fine.” I rubbed absently at it. “The government is going to owe me a skin graft when I get out of here.”
“I’ll add it to your expense report.”
“Hey, speaking of,” I said, remembering that I’d wanted to talk to him about that. “Who exactly do I work for now? I haven’t heard anything from Detroit Vice in years. Do they think I’m dead?”
“Does it matter?” Griffin asked.
“Uh, yeah.” I scoffed. “I’m a cop. And when this is over, I’d still like to be a cop. I’ve worked really fucking hard to toe a line here. And I’ve done some sketchy shit that I’m not proud of. It’s just going to get harder from here on out. But I’ve done it all assuming that I have a home to return to with the DPD.”
“I know.” He sighed into the receiver. “And you’re doing great. Matt…I do know how hard this is.”
“Do you?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he insisted. “In fact, I might be the only person who really does. And I’m sorry. You’ve given up everything to help us with this. Don’t think I don’t appreciate it.”
