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I got in the back with Malik. The man behind the wheel was probably in his sixties and had graying hair. Like everyone else in the Altair organization, I was sure he could subdue me without breaking a sweat.
The car glided over the streets as we made our way from the low-income neighborhood I lived and owned my business in to the higher end side of East Dremest. Eventually, the ten-story building loomed over me, a dark storm cloud still undecided about which kind of hell it would unleash today.
This was a residential building my dad owned. He lived on the top floor. I couldn’t get there without first walking past armed guards in the lobby. I stopped caring about how many times my dad was on the other end of a hit. Too bad none of them were successful.
The elevator lifted us toward the top, coming to a stop in the entryway of my dad’s home. The place was gaudy. He thought it was worthy of a man of his stature. All I saw was overpriced furnishings, hideous paintings, and lights so bright they felt like they were going to burn out my retinas.
Maybe I would have liked this life if my mom wasn’t taken from me so early. I was only three when my dad put a gun to her head and killed her right in front of me. He said she was cheating on him. Maybe she was, maybe she wasn’t. Either way, I think he wanted her dead and out of the way. Cheating was the excuse he used. He made me witness it to teach me a lesson, so I’d know not to cross him. I was scared of him growing up but learned fast he wouldn’t physically hurt me.
I hoped every day someone killed him. He’d lived too long, done too much destruction. He flooded cities with guns and drugs. People died because of what he brought to them. If I thought the organization would crumble with his death, I would have put my hatred of murder to the side and pulled the trigger a long time ago. With his corpse in the ground, someone else would rise. Like Malik. If not him, another. It was a never-ending cycle of power. At least with my dad at the helm I knew what to expect. Most of the time.
The old man himself stood in the living room, waiting for me. A sneer curled his lip as his eyes went from my feet to my head. “You own suits,” he grated out. He had ten custom-made for me when I signed the contract with PJS.
“And you own a phone. Why was I dragged here this time?”
“Why were you at the Lynx house yesterday?” Oh good. Right to the point.
“Work.” If I told him I caught feelings, even lust for Greer, he’d become a bigger person of interest. My dad hated how the Lynx brothers stood between him and Junior. He would have much preferred easy access to his nephew.
The only reason Greer and Peyton were still alive was because of my uncle and now my cousin. Junior was too important to the family. A connection to show proof my uncle was a good guy. It was bullshit, but it was what it was. The Lynxes protected Junior. Therefore, they lived. Until they did something my dad didn’t like, then he’d have someone end them. Most likely Malik.
“You don’t spend the night at someone’s house for work.”
“You do when you’re too tired and don’t want to crash while driving home. As you well know, the house isn’t in the city.”
It wasn’t surprising I was being followed. I knew I wasn’t being tracked by my bike or my truck. I swept them often, looking for devices.
He glanced out the window, eyes on the city before him. It was a bright, sunny day. I should be soaking up that warmth, not here baking in the pit of hell.
When I left Greer’s, I’d noticed how the leaves were nearing the end of their peak, some already falling, the colors muting away, the leaves drifting from the branches. Here in the city, trees were sparse. There were some, but nothing like the land around the fortress. Apparently, I was now calling it that. The place was solid. I’d give it that.
“Have you spoken to Dexen recently?” he asked, his back still to me.
I tensed. “No, why would I?
“You two were an item once.”
“Once.”
“He’d be good for you.”
“You mean he’d be good for my image, which in turn is good for you.”
Sighing, he turned to face me again. The old man had hazel eyes, nothing like my blue ones. I got mine from my mom, thank fuck. His hair was completely silver. His thick beard was the same, trimmed and neat. I bet if I looked close enough, not a wayward hair would be out of place. He wore black slacks with a deep-green button down. His hands in his pockets, his feet in polished shoes even in his own home. “I want you to be happy.”
I scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“You have a great job you’re thriving at. Now you need a man by your side who will be there for you.” One good thing about my dad, he didn’t give a shit I was gay.
“I’m fine being single. As far as the job goes, I thrived at my shop too.” I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much I enjoyed working at PJS.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. The same one that did every time I brought my shop up. “Dexen is a prestigious man.”
“He owns a strip club.”
“You and I both know Untouchable is much more than that. The money the members pay, it’s exclusive. Classy.”
I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes. “Why are you trying to sell me on Dexen?”
