Dark Heart

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Dark Heart Page 33

by Eve L Mitchell


  Trey laughed out loud. “I can’t believe you still can’t remember my cousin’s name after eighteen months.” He shook his head.

  I stubbed my butt out. “Fuck, it takes me all my time to remember yours.” I clapped him on the back as we walked back into the garage. I stopped level with Gregor. “He good?” I asked Trey in front of him.

  “Yeah boss, we’ll sort it out.” Trey nodded with a sly smile.

  “See that you do.” I eyed Gregor as I left. Seemed like he’d just gotten a wake-up call he wasn’t expecting.

  I headed to the gym next. There were a few in that were regulars. I checked in with them. They all asked after Shadow and his wife and the baby. Frank and I would be concentrating on their programmes and training, I explained.

  I went into my office and waited. Frank followed. He closed the door.

  “You have two weeks.” I said. “I won’t take any enhancers so don’t try your crap. How many hours can you give me – set me a nutritional meal plan starting today.”

  “You need to stop smoking,” Frank barked at me.

  “I need to do a lot of things,” I countered.

  “I need you at your best,” Frank argued.

  “I’m not at my best, which is why you’re getting me for two weeks.” I looked at him as I opened a bottle of water. “I want a training programme and I want a meal plan. Go.”

  “Fine, but I’ll push you.” He stood.

  “Good, you have full rein for two weeks, starting now.” He looked at me, waiting to see if I was bullshitting him. “I won’t fight in the Warehouse, understand?” Frank hesitated and then accepted it. Apart from that minor setback, he almost skipped out of the office.

  I picked up my phone and texted Lela.

  Me: Have you thrown anything yet?

  Almost immediately a reply came through.

  Lela: I don’t remember my mom’s husband being such a prick!

  I laughed. Skinner the Crook winning the ladies over everywhere.

  Lela: He HAS to be rich, otherwise I don’t see how she can let him near her

  I didn’t need the visual. The idea of any man near my own mom made me want to punch the hypothetical guy in the nuts.

  Me: Is he staying with you all day?

  Lela: Yeah, says we’re bonding…

  The vomit emoji accompanied that message and I sent back a message that I had to go, reminding her to keep in touch. If she was with Skinner, she was at least safe.

  I considered my options. Frank was on a couch muttering as he kept looking at me and then at a notebook. He came into the office.

  “I need the full extent of what happened,” he barked at me.

  “Bruised ribs, concussion, possible fractured leg, two dislocated shoulders, black eye.” I grinned. “Nothing I can’t beat. I’m almost back to a 5k run at nineteen minutes, I’ve been sitting at twenty-one minutes the last three days. I can only do twenty pull ups on the door frame. I used to do thirty. My hand eye on the speedball isn’t where it should be.” I frowned as I thought. “My appetite hasn’t returned properly, I’m on no pain medication, I had a fever which may be slowing me down still. I need carbs and protein.” I stood as I picked up the Buick’s keys. “Oh and I keep losing my breath, it’s like I can’t get enough oxygen, but I think that’s the bruising on the ribs. I don’t need to be fully fit. Just fit enough.”

  He was staring at me.

  “Stronger Frank. Not brittle. I need to bend, not break. Ok?” He nodded. “Oh and my legs – they keep feeling really heavy. Fix them.” I picked up my water. “I need to head out. I’ll be back.”

  I jogged down the stairs.

  An hour later, I pulled up outside a glass office tower in Denver’s business district. I then moved the Buick to a seven-storey parking garage and walked back to the office. I turned my collar on my jacket right up to hide my tattoos on my neck. When I walked across the entrance to the main reception, I eyed the directory and headed to the front desk.

  “Hi.” I greeted the older lady behind the welcome desk. She smiled but instantly looked like she wanted security.

  “I was hoping to contact Malcolm Litton?” Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, I don’t want to talk to him directly.” I laughed. “I was hoping you could give me his secretary’s details or something? I was just passing and saw the building and you know…thought I could just come in.” I ran my hand over my hair. “Is it not ok to come in?” I glanced about nervously.

  She relaxed. I was just someone off the street. I was harmless. “People tend to use the internet these days you know,” she said with a soft, slightly scornful laugh. “Of course, I have all the business cards of the buildings occupants if you need.” A flush of self-importance. Well aren’t you just special, I thought.

  “You know when I was young, we didn’t have the internet. Cold calling was the only way you got the job.” I nodded. When she was young, I was sure women hadn’t been allowed to vote. “No one just walks in anymore.” She flashed me a warm smile and slid a card across the counter to me. I slipped it off her like it was the secret combination to the vault.

  “Thank you so much.” My voice was low. I left and headed back to the car. I dialled. “I’d like to speak to Malcolm Litton please.” I said when the receptionist answered. When asked who was calling, I said it was his nephew Aaron. I grinned as she was quite obviously flustered with this information. I kept the lie simple and consistent when she questioned me again.

  It took a few minutes but then a voice came on the line. “Aaron?”

  “Uncle Malcom?” I asked.

  “Is this my nephew Aaron from my I’m-an-only-child sisters’ side, or my I’m-an-only-child brother’s side?” He sounded amused at least.

  “I’ve been told I’m remarkable many times Uncle Malcolm. I’m in Denver, just around the corner actually. I believe your other family member Skinner is preoccupied this afternoon and I thought it was the perfect time to catch up.” I held my breath.

  “I see. There’s a coffee shop, Café Noir, two blocks away. Meet me there in ten minutes. I do like family reunions.”

  I was sitting in a corner seat when he came in ten minutes later. I had a coffee and a slice of coffee cake half-finished when he sat down. He raised an eyebrow and I shrugged.

  “Hungry.” I spotted his security, one inside the café with him and one outside. “They for me?”

  “No, standard,” he answered as he ordered a double espresso and a brownie.

  “Interesting.” I took a bite of my cake. “This is nice.”

  “I like it. What brings you here?” Malcolm was what mom would call distinguished. His suit was designer, his hair close cut and only just showing grey. His long black woollen coat was expensive, you just knew it was. His black shoes were polished and his wedding band thick and golden although I’m pretty sure his wife had either died or run off years ago.

  “Ok to talk here?” I asked. He nodded. “You own it?” He smiled. I laughed. “Course you do.” I took another drink of coffee. “You hear what happened?”

  He nodded. “Not the full details. Skinner is sketchy on parts.” He sipped his coffee. “I believe that complete incompetent Two-Bit is involved somehow.” His derision dripped from him.

  “Yeah, long story short, my sister did something stupid when she was a kid.” Malcolm nodded. “Tommy recently found out that she was involved. I had to pay for it.” He looked at me. “She didn’t take it.”

  “I know.”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “Because I did,” he said simply.

  I’m pretty sure I resembled Daisy earlier. Malcolm didn’t bat an eye.

  “You bought them,” I stated flatly.

  “Of course. Made a good profit.” He finished his coffee. “I thought he’d let that go.”

  “No. He didn’t.” I glanced down at my clenched hands.

  “How much did he make you pay?” Malcolm gestured for a refill.

  “Three hundred.” I me
t his stare straight on. “But I have a smart mouth, and I don’t like to share. He wants in on my fights.” I finished my coffee. “Like you do.” His attention was razor sharp. Malcolm did not partake in his product like Tommy did. It was quite obviously all about money to Malcolm.

  “Does he?” Malcolm asked quietly. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him to go fuck himself. Though I thought I said it a little more politely than that; in hindsight I think I may have been mistaken.” Malcolm laughed out loud. “So, he got me beaten and dumped to die. Your boy Kyle seems to work for him now?”

  Malcolm stopped laughing and watched me. “Why are you telling me this Aaron?”

  “Because I don’t care about the thing you both care about. I never have, never will. I absolutely detest it.” He nodded. “I don’t mess with either of you really – keep myself to myself, stay out of everyone’s business.” He reluctantly nodded again. “But both of you want in on my business. Which is just greedy.” I saw the smile that played around his mouth. “Now, I’m not really a reasonable person. In fact, I’m pretty much as fucking crazy as they come when I need to be. I’m not happy with how I’ve been backed into this corner.”

  Malcolm eyed me and I boldly met his appraisal. “It may be that there’s about to be a hostile takeover situation for you to exploit. That’s what you deal with, isn’t it? Takeovers and acquisitions?” Malcolm sat back and tapped the table as he considered me. “I don’t know much about takeovers or shit. I expect you may need to be vigilant in the market. All I ask is you leave my business and me alone.” I stood. “We good?”

  “Why didn’t you tell Skinner?”

  “Because I don’t deal with the middleman,” I answered as I left the coffee shop.

  I got back to the Buick and wasn’t entirely sure if I had just fucked that up or not. I figured I’d find out soon enough.

  By the time I got back to Boulder, I’d decided I needed to get new wheels if I was ever going to get through winter. Back at the gym, I called a used car dealer I knew on Arapahoe. He had a 2014 Dodge Ram ready to go for a good price, I told him I would send someone for it tomorrow.

  I phoned Jim, told him about the Ram and waited until he told me they weren’t the best in the snow. I agreed. He said he would go check it out on his way home. I hung up smiling, God only knew what he would come back with – probably a soccer mom car, knowing Jim.

  Frank came into the office. He handed me a meal plan. I cast an eye over it. “That’s a lot of food,” I commented.

  “Yeah, you need to eat so you have something to burn off.” He nodded. “We need to bulk you up.”

  “Ok, I’ll go to the store on the way home.” I folded my food plan.

  “You’re not arguing?”

  “No. What’s my training plan?” He handed me another schedule. “Ok, I can do some of this in the morning? Or all here with you?” I looked up at him.

  “All here with me.”

  “OK. Who’s my sparring partner?” I glanced down at the sheet. “Matt’s gone.” I laid my plan on the desk.

  “Do I want to know?”

  “No. Who else we got?” I sat back in my chair as I looked out over the gym.

  “I’ll find someone. Don’t worry.” Frank tapped his chair. “This place has the worst hours I’ve ever seen in a gym. From now on, start opening at seven and closing late. You need to hire another set of hands.”

  I actually agreed. “Ok, get me someone who actually has a sports accreditation?” I suggested.

  Frank snorted. “Yeah, because they’re growing on trees.” He held up his hands as I looked up from my training plan. “I’ll look.”

  My phone vibrated.

  Lela: I have to get away, you ready to head home?

  Me: Yes, I’ll meet you at the house.

  Lela: xxx

  “I’ll see you tomorrow Frank. Seven?” I asked as I picked up my keys and headed to the Buick.

  I had one more stop to make before heading into the house for the night. Parking in the driveway I made my way to Walter’s. He’d clearly seen me coming up the path, as usual. He was waiting for me at the door of his gun room, which is what I was now calling it.

  “Picked out a good one for you, nice and easy for a first timer. Not a lot to go wrong unless you miss completely,” he greeted.

  “Thanks Walter,” I said as I followed him in. He handed me a comfortably sized black gun.

  “This is a 9mm Rugar. It’s a semi-automatic, front loading magazine, easy to use, easy to load. Loads and unloads beside the safety. Try not to mix them up.” He winked at me as he pointed out the safety switch and button.

  “I’ve used a gun before Walter. I’m from southern Texas. I think my old man came out of the womb shooting.”

  “You said you didn’t shoot,” Walter protested.

  “I said I didn’t shoot. I didn’t say I couldn’t.” I hefted the gun. “This is nice, easy to conceal. I like it. You got a licence for it?” He snorted. “Yeah, thought as much.”

  “How long since you been to target practice?” Walter asked me.

  “Long time, might need a few pops before I hit anything,” I acknowledged.

  “Well just remember the basics; nose over toes; you want to have somewhere for the recoil to go. You haven’t shot in a while – you need to think of where the recoil is going. Don’t lean back, you’ll be fine. Or at least better.” I grunted out a laugh. “Think of that trigger like your lady’s sweet spot, when you got it, hit it.” He grinned at me. Dirty old bastard. “Be prepared for the noise, don’t flinch, and make sure you hit the fucker you’re shooting.”

  “That’s your crash course? Make sure I don’t drop the magazine instead of flicking off the safety, watch my stance, be prepared for recoil, hit the trigger properly, and make sure I shoot someone?”

  “Advice to live by my boy.” Walter ambled back to his chair.

  “You gonna give me any magazines?” I yelled after him.

  “Already loaded some in a rucksack by the door. What more do you want? You want me to shoot them for you too?”

  He was shaking his head incredulously when I left.

  Two weeks later

  I was at the gym on the phone with Shadow. He had called during one of the training sessions with Frank. I glanced over to the boxing ring. Frank pointed at his watch and I flipped him the finger. Bruce, my sparring partner, grinned.

  Bruce, the brick shithouse, who’d fought and almost beat an up and coming MMA fighter. That’s who Frank had found for me to spar with. I had to tell him every time to stay away from my face – nothing too visible. Lela couldn’t be suspicious and the guys in the gym couldn’t be too aware in case they were spies.

  “Maria’s ok?” I asked.

  “Yeah, he’s restless, they think he may come any day.” The excitement in his voice made me genuinely happy.

  “That’s great news.” I smiled.

  “So? How are things with you?” He asked me. “They being bastards? You had trouble?”

  “No everything’s been really quiet.” I wiped my face on my t-shirt.

  “You serious?” He didn’t believe me.

  “Yeah, actually it’s been welcome to be honest.” I laughed.

  “So, nothing? You’ve really just been laying low and letting Lela look after you?”

  “No, I let Frank have his wicked way with me. You genuinely haven’t believed a single word I have said to you for two weeks, have you?” I started laughing.

  “It’s not that. I do believe you.” There was a pause. “Ok, I didn’t fully believe you would let Frank train you.”

  “It was the best call. He’s been good for me. Look I have to go. You keep me posted with bump and I’ll see you soon.” I was keen to get on with training.

  “Yes, and we’ll finish this.” Shadow promised.

  “We will.” I said goodbye and left the office to join Frank and Bruce in the ring.

  In the last two weeks, since agreeing to let
Frank take the reins, I’d taken back every bad thought I’d ever had about Frank. I’d thought my body had been a weapon before, but I’d been wrong. I was a machine now. Two weeks and I was in the best condition of my life. It had been intense, but it was worth it.

  “You talk more than a woman,” Frank grumbled. I punched him. He was too slow to dodge me and he stumbled. I relished that my speed was back. The pain in my shoulders was no more than a dull ache now. Frank mumbled that I was a shithead but waved us forward to spar. I faced Bruce and grinned. He was eagerly waiting.

  I was ready to dance. Bruce didn’t care about my inner beast. He loved for him to come out and play.

  In less than fifteen minutes, I had Bruce’s head crushed in between my thighs and he was tapping out on the mat. I had blood streaming down from my arm; it was a superficial cut but I was pissed. I’d seen the blood and lost more control than was acceptable.

  “Aaron, he’s going to pass out.” Frank said beside me. I finally registered and released Bruce’s head. He lay back on the mat, gasping.

  “Fuck. You crazy ass bastard,” he wheezed. It didn’t help that he was smiling.

  I did a handspring onto my feet. Frank muttered about showing off. I flexed my muscles as I loosened up in the ring. We had a crowd as usual. I glowered at most of them. Some retreated, some stayed, a few edged closer. Jordan edged even closer.

  “Hey Aaron, can I spar with you?” Jordan asked tentatively.

  Frank stopped muttering. “He’ll kill you in about five minutes.”

  I glared at Frank. “Jordan, I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?” I said instead.

 

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