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My hands scratched at Jere’s hold, and I dug my nails in as I tried to free myself from his death grip. My older brother looked completely deranged as the study door flew open with a kick, and two men in black charged forward, dragging Jere off me.
I scrabbled backwards on my butt as Jere ranted and raved.
“I will kill you!” Jere screamed at me.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort, son. The police are on their way, and I’ll be giving a witness statement. Even if you killed your sister, it would all go to charity!” Mr Applegate thundered.
Outside the study, nosey people milled as officers barrelled their way through. A glance at the severe marking on my neck and Jere ranting, and they cuffed him within minutes.
Two paramedics came on their heels and began administering first aid to me. My throat was swelling enough that they readied me for transport.
As the cops dragged Jere out, Mr Applegate, Cami, and Tami ended the funeral wake while Brandy accompanied me.
Law enforcement passed Jere’s car—the gaudy thing of course parked front and centre—and one officer glanced inside before stopping completely. The other cop was placing Jere in the vehicle and looked over at his partner’s shout.
The fireworks I’d been waiting for were lit, poised for display. And as I was loaded into the ambulance, I saw Brandy’s grin as the cops pulled out a stash of cash and drugs.
Yeah, Jere was fucked.
I love it when a plan comes together!
Chapter One.
May 2021
Chance
“What do you mean?” he demanded, glowering at Rooster.
“The fucker sold the building out from under us,” Rooster growled.
Chance leaned back, thoroughly pissed off. Hellfire had planned to buy a building next to the department store they’d bought. The idea had been to convert it into a bar. It would have been ideal next to the department store they’d converted, which had started to grow into a bustling centre even though they still had vacancies.
The entire top floor was an art gallery; it showcased works from artist from their state. Tati had hired a manager for it, and being from that community, he was doing wonderfully. They had staff working for them too, and the guy often toured the state, looking for new artists to showcase.
The basement was a fully outfitted studio, which, in all honestly, Chey and Celt rarely used as they’d one at home. But local bands were realising it existed, so it was booked for several weeks ahead all the time. Celt’s glass shop had also now opened, and if Celt wasn’t singing, he was blowing glass. He had maintained a fair stockpile, making a killing.
Diesel and Banshee both had large, spacious offices with an outer reception, and, if not out on site, you’d find Diesel there with his team. Banshee was usually around in the mornings and late afternoons while being out during the mid-afternoon.
Levi has settled into his studio once he’d the lighting perfect. Out of all the conversions, Levi’s had cost the most; he needed natural daylight, and compromising on that hadn’t even been an option. In the end, his studio had walls knocked down on two sides and skylights put in. He shared the top floor with the gallery; the spaces were unique and yet complemented each other.
A unit on the ground floor held the tattoo shop, with Thalia’s clothing shop and Janey’s home brewery store located there, too. Alongside them was Clio’s friend Frida, who made the best chocolates ever. Chey’s lotion girl, Maura, owned another unit near them, and a florist had moved in. Unusually, it was a male florist, but Durrant was a hell of a master at flower arrangements. Hellfire frequented him often when they pissed off their old ladies.
Tati’s antique store then took up one-eighth of the second floor.
Clio’s farm food supplier had taken a unit on the ground floor.
Hellfire had also invested in a print shop; they often used prospects to man it. The expansion didn’t seem to stop for a while, and they’d also taken on a cookware store—which Chance had initially been against—but it was selling well, and a bakery had also opened inside. There were some units free still, however, Chance remained unsure whether to hire them out or install his own business. The second floor had half its space free, and the floor held several eateries and a child’s care centre—again, all Hellfire-owned. It was a private pay, and the staff had been vetted deeply.
Chance had wanted to purchase the building next door to them. It had four storeys in total, and that didn’t include the basement. He sought to open a club in the basement, a bar on the ground, and then save the other floors for whatever Hellfire came up with. The owner had strung them along before finally accepting an offer. Then pulled out the deal.
Now Chance stewed because he’d discovered the fucker had sold to someone else.
“He was demanding another twenty thousand,” Rooster informed Chance, whose scowl deepened.
“Motherfucker,” Chance growled.
“Revenge is sweet. Asshole’s wife emptied his account and did a runner with the money. He planned to do the same to her, but she got in first,” Rooster crowed.
