Page 60 of Unexpected Complication

His gaze bounced between the teeth lying on his desk and my face, which I knew was dark with fury—but not for the reason he thought it was.

He leaned forward, and I covered the small pieces with my hand. “Mine, Orson. No one touches my trophies but me.” I scooped them up and poured them back into the pouch, replacing it in my pocket. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs and swinging one in what I knew he thought was anger. “Any other questions?”

His face contorted, and he threw his head back, his creepy-ass laughter sending chills down my spine. It was everything he was—dark, twisted, and vile-sounding. I hated his laugh as much as I hated him.

“You, Anthony, are a man I can identify with. We think alike. No one touches my trophies either.”

“I bet you have lots.”

“I might be persuaded to show you one day.”

It took everything in me not to jump up and tell him to show me now. Instead, I feigned nonchalance. “One day. You insisted I come here—so, talk.”

His eyes narrowed. “You try my patience. Don’t make me kill you—it would be a waste of your talent.”

I chuckled low in my throat. “If I wanted, Orson, you’d both be dead before Rex could move his fucking pinkie finger. So either talk, or pay me what you owe and I’ll leave. I don’t really give a shit either way.”

Grudging respect crossed his face. He began to speak again, and I held up my hand.

“Privately.”

Rex growled from his corner.

Orson shook his head. “He stays.”

“I showed you enough respect to come alone, so show me the same and discuss business with me without your lapdog.”

Rex stepped forward, his sheer size menacing without the murderous look on his face. I gazed at him impassively.

Orson tented his fingers. “Leave us, Rex.”

Rex grunted. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

I waited until he had left. “How many cigarettes does he smoke a day?”

Orson shook his head. “None. Over a year ago, there was a fire—purposely set. Rex was protecting me—he saved my life and ended up the one injured. It damaged his vocal cords, left the scars on his face, and affected his eyesight. He almost didn’t make it, and when they took the bandages off, I hardly recognized him. He sacrificed himself for me.”

“That’s loyalty.”

“He is one of the few I trust.”

“I got rid of your mole. What else do you want from me?”

“Rex can’t be everything I need anymore. But he has a job with me until…he doesn’t.”

I didn’t need to know any more. I highly doubted there was a retirement package in Rex’s future.

“So?” I prompted.

“I want you to join me. Work for me.”

I shook my head. “I work for myself. I don’t take orders. From anyone.”

“Consider it a consulting job.”

I pretended to consider it. “Doing?”

“I need more enforcement than Rex can provide. I want to know who planted the mole and make an example of him. I need the reaction your being in my organization will cause.”