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“Like I said. A fucking prick. No wonder you have no one else to call for favors. Wait––” I can picture him tossing his hands up. “Why you callin’ me to pick your ass up when you have a literal legion of men under your command?”
Honestly, I’m surprised it’s taken him this long to ask. “Because I don’t want my men anywhere near here.”
“Huh.” There’s a beat of silence. “Consider me curious enough to put up with your shit for another night. Where are you?”
I think of an intersection a few blocks away that’ll be a good place for a quick pick-up, and give him the directions.
“Got it,” King replies and hangs up.
He’s the only one that can get away with talking to me the way he does, but that’s because we’re equals. He runs the money. I run the men. And the things the men do.
* * *
Fifteen minuteslater I’m climbing into the passenger side of King’s blacked-out SUV. The ultra-dark tinted windows and windshield keeping any eyes or cameras from catching us together.
It’s no secret that King and I know each other. Though as far as common knowledge goes, that’s all that’s between us. A passing acquaintance. We move in the same upper circles of society, so it’s expected.
In actuality, we go back. Way back. To a fucked up youth and an even more fucked up adulthood. It started in a bloodbath, and ended with us forming The Alliance.
“Favor one complete,” King says, pulling away from the curb and into the sparse traffic. “What’s favor two?”
I type out a quick message then hit send. “Favor two was just texted to you.”
With one hand on the wheel, King lifts his phone and glances at the text.
“Who is she?” He looks back down. “And who’s Arthur?”
“She’s no one.” I turn my attention out the window. “But he’s a dead man.”
CHAPTER7
Payton
My body achesin protest as I roll out of bed, my phone alarm blaring from the other side of the room.
I suck in a breath when my bare feet connect with the cold floor, but I fight through the temptation to jump back into bed. The whole purpose of not leaving my phone in its usual spot on the nightstand was so I’d have to get up to turn it off. I already set it for the latest time possible which means I don’t even have the option to hit snooze.
It’s not until I have my phone silenced in my hand that I realize how stupid that plan probably was. A man was literally in my apartment last night, and I couldn’t call for help because my phone was across the room. And I just did it again, on purpose.
“Idiot,” I chastise myself out loud.
My grogginess is bone deep, so as dumb as my plan may have been, it was probably the right choice. I doubt I’d get fired for sleeping through the beginning of my shift, but it’s not worth the risk.
If I could afford to take a day off, I would. But I can’t. And even though I don’t hate my job, it doesn’t exactly come with PTO.
My steps drag as I cross the hall and enter the bathroom. I preemptively squint my eyes as I turn on the light, blocking out the brightness that still manages to sear straight into my brain.
Blindly, I reach into the shower and turn on the water, letting it heat up while I strip and use the toilet.
Coffee would go a long way to making me feel more human. Unfortunately, I didn’t give myself any extra time to brew some, meaning I’ll have to wait until I’m at work to have my caffeine boost. One perk of working at a café, free coffee all day.
Slipping into the shower, I stand under the hot water and let the warmth wake me. Only for a minute though, knowing I’m limited on time. When that minute is over, I pick up my shampoo bottle and do my routine in fast forward.
Done with my hair, I reach for my body wash, but my fingers brush against the tiled wall.
I open one eye and tip my head away from the spray.
“What…?”
