The quiet, dimly lit restaurant being closed for the night was the perfect meeting place, no interruptions and no prying eyes. The smells of tomato sauce and garlic filtered through the air, embedded in the walls from years of use. This family-owned place, not mine of course, knew the need for discretion in my business. As for family, mine didn’t exist; at least by any blood relation that I claimed.
Standing, I slid the lighter into my pocket and made my way to the front door just as Jacob found his way inside, the door jingling from the small bell up above. With his face flushed and a look of fear, a feeling that he should have for being behind schedule, as he waltzed in, trying to hide his emotions, only pissing me off more. Late didn’t register to me—no matter who it was—ever. Everyone around me understood and accepted—I was in power, in control, the king to my disciples. Don’t disappoint me, don’t make me wait, and damn sure don’t piss me the fuck off—everyone knew, including Jacob Cole. It’s the first matter we discussed when someone came to work for me and they signed it in blood—their blood.
Jacob stood in front of me, but I didn’t look at him. Instead, I gazed just beyond him as if he didn’t exist, because to me he didn’t—not anymore. He had his chance to have my attention, to do his job. There were no second chances. There were no ‘get out of jail free’ cards in the game of life we lived. One time was all it took, and he decided today was his day. This shit was done. He was done.
“Bossman, I’m sorry, I was negotiating,” he muttered, and the words assaulted my ears like needles poking into the center of my eardrums, making them bleed.
I had just started moving and halted immediately at his statement. Instead of giving him my full attention, I maintained my eyes locked beyond the man just to my left, rolling one word around in my head. One word that should never come from anyone’s mouth except mine.
Before I managed a reply, the man whined on, “The buyer wants to bail if they can’t see the merchandise now. Even a 3-D imaging will do they said. It’s an empty threat, but they want reassurances of the item. It’s their first transaction, they’re just a little nervous and needed a little more.”
Turning my head, I stared at the trembling young man in front of me. Disgust, anger, and absolute disdain clouded my vision. To me, he was red. We were far from evenly matched, nowhere near equal levels—both physically or metaphysically. At six-feet-four-inches tall, Jacob stood a solid ten inches shorter than me. I was a ruthless businessman. He was a peon in over his head. So I glared down on him in more ways than one, proudly. It’s how I preferred it, and very few could match me in height to look me dead in the eye. Even those people had a hard time keeping my gaze.
Jacob had a slightly receding hairline and kept the rest of it short, probably in preparation for losing it completely. Drops of sweat rolled down his face where his cheeks visibly quivered from his fear. I could smell the fresh menthol of his recently smoked cigarette. It drove me insane. What an absolute waste he was!
Three minutes late… three minutes he probably spent puffing away on his tobacco stick, trying to calm his shit down outside, when he should’ve been in here facing me. Three minutes of my time he wasted for a cigarette. Fuck that shit.
He could smoke on his time, not mine. My time was money. My time was power. My time was mine… not his or anyone else’s.
“What did you say? You were negotiating?” I asked him, my voice firm.
He nodded then, thinking better of it, shook his head back and forth right behind it. Indecisive motherfucker. Which was it, yes or no? None of it fucking mattered; he was a dead man walking, his time about to end.
“Did you say the word negotiating?” I questioned again, demanding more than a stupid fucking head bob. “Be clear, Jacob. This is a precise business. The answer is simply yes or no.”
“Yes, Sir,” he stammered, hands trembling as the sweat continued pouring down his face soaking his white-collared shirt.
His fear, I fed off it.
His terror, I relished in it.
My reputation in this town demanded respect. I owned it hard and fierce.
In a swift movement, I slid the blade from the hidden wrist cuff built into the sleeve of my shirt. Settling the metal in between my middle and ring finger, I gripped the shaft knowing the blade was sharp and ready to pierce. From there, I swung my fist down in a forward motion catching my intended spot as I curved up.
I never missed a target.
My intention was pain, a slow torture, and to wake this motherfucker up so he knew without a doubt what was going on. My business was mine. He didn’t have the authority to negotiate with a client. No one did, and Jacob would be a fine example to spread word around town to my people, far and wide to the world, expanding and reaching the depths of the underworld. Everyone would remember not to fuck with me. It was a simple reminder—they worked for me, not the other way around.
I held the power of life or death.
My hand settled only when the blade could go no further inside his flesh. His thighs shook around my fist like he might not be standing much longer. “Your cock lays to the left so you feel the pain straight to your balls right now,” I told him calmly while he cried out in agony. “Jacob, this business takes balls. Ones you clearly don’t possess.”
I yanked the blade out and stepped away from my victim, leaving him standing in a puddle of his own piss and blood. Red trailed from his cock and balls, all the way down his legs as he crashed down to his knees harshly on the tile flooring.
He looked up at me with tears in his eyes, but unable to speak. I was certain the pain was unbearable and excruciating, which it was intended to be. He blinked rapidly, no doubt fighting to sort himself out, wanting to plead for mercy, yet fearing to in the same thought.
“Consider your services rendered. Your exit package will be delivered shortly, Jacob.”
He opened and closed his mouth absently before he could finally form words. “Please, Onyx. Please, give me another chance.”
Fucking pathetic.
Begging, not something I wanted to hear, ever. The only time I would listen to someone beg was a woman with luscious curves down on her knees wanting my cock.
A grown ass man begging with my name off his lips, that shit only pissed me off more by the second. When did men become such pussies?
“Onyx, please, I’ll do anything.”
Immediately, I shook my head. “No. Let me be clear since you have issues understanding. Your exit package will be delivered shortly—get your affairs in order, Jacob. Quick.”
The way he’s fucked up this deal, I should deliver the death blow myself. He knew what he was getting into when he came into the depths, just like every other individual in my association. The man assigned to Jacob’s exit understood his job, his role, and wouldn’t listen to a single word the man before me pleaded with to save his sorry ass. This was how my association worked—we each had a job to do, and we did it.
And we all made a fuck load of money in the process. We knew the fucking score and took that shit like grown men do. Jacob, he had gone soft. It’s a shame because when he started he had balls of steel. Alas, he made his bed, now he would lay in it.
Grabbing a cloth napkin from the nearby table, I swiped the blade clean before tossing the fabric back to the table. Sure, I would get a bill for the clean up, but nothing that just occurred inside these walls would ever be spoken outside of them. The consequences for crossing me were severe and unwavering. Everyone knew it and followed accordingly.
Slipping the knife back in its holder inside my shirt cuff, I made my way to exit the restaurant. Jacob reached out grabbing at my legs like a damn toddler, to which I shrugged off, turned around, and nailed him in the face so hard he fell to the ground completely.
“Be a man, Jacob Cole.” Those were my parting words as I stepped out into the cool night air.
On to the next. This was my life, my world, and it was all completely under my thumb.
Chapter Two
&n
bsp; Torryn
What the ever loving hell!
“Kennedy, answer the damn phone!” I yelled out to the air around me, before tossing the device to the passenger seat seeing it bounce once on the cushion. Could this day possibly get any worse? As soon as the thought entered my mind, I pushed it away. Everyone knew thinking things like that was just a recipe for everything going down the shitter further than it currently was. And I didn’t need any more bad luck—for a lifetime.
Knowing I didn’t want to go home and face my apartment where the bills would certainly be piling up, I decided to drive to my sister’s house since she wouldn’t answer my calls. I needed her support right now, the kind only a big sister could give. The comfort of her arms around me telling me everything was going to work out was what I needed. We had always been close, and I considered myself lucky to have her at my side.
Nothing was going right though, and I needed her. As silly as it may sound, I needed someone to tell me everything would be okay. That reminder I was strong enough not to let life get me down.
One step forward, twelve steps back on a continuous cycle of hell; that seemed to be the story of my life, and she was the only one I had.
Eight months ago, our mother died with no life insurance, leaving us to handle the costs. Never having to deal with a funeral before, when the bills came all breath left me. There was no money to pay for them. Kennedy married a wealthy man, thank goodness, and he covered the expenses. I may not have liked Malcom, but he had taken care of my sister and at times, me. While it was a blow to my pride to have to depend on them, I couldn’t help that life kept kicking me down every time I seemed to stand back up.
The drive passed in a blur as I fought with my emotions. My mom always said money don’t solve money problems. I still wasn’t sure that was correct, at least it didn’t feel like it. Kennedy would be the voice of reason. She would make all this seem not so bad. She would hug me, and we’d eat ice cream. She’d help me come up with a plan to move forward. Kennedy had always been my go-to rock in life.
I mean, graduating from college and losing your job while your student loan bills and life bills continued to pile up wasn’t the end of the world, right? It’s just money, after all. Unfortunately, I didn’t have anyone else to fall back on but my sister. She got to be the lucky winner of my woes, but what the hell were sisters for if it wasn’t to be the reminder that life could always be worse?
It wasn’t like I got fired because I sucked and was a lazy-ass who didn’t do my job. It was some ‘last one hired is first one fired’ policy on layoffs, and I was at the top of that list.
Graphic design—my passion. Kennedy told me to go for it and the work would come. That I could build myself up in the company and be able to take on my own clients. Maybe if I had a freelance business already built up, I’d have a cushion. But right now, all I had was a whole lot of talent and nothing to eat—literally.
Pulling up to her house, I punched in the code for the gate that swung open with ease, leading me into the fancy area my sister lived in. Parking my car behind a black Cadillac, I admired the beautiful ride before taking the steps up to the front door. It wasn’t a car I had seen before, but then again Malcom always kept my sister in the newest cars so maybe it was a gift. Entering the sprawling house, I rushed into the formal sitting room where Kennedy sat on the loveseat beside Malcom.
I wasn’t thinking, I wasn’t paying attention. In fact, my mind filled with thoughts of sister talk and ice cream. I noticed Malcom, but didn’t really register that he was home from work in the middle of the day. This wasn’t usual so my brain was slow to put things together as my mind reeled with my latest devastation.
My sister was in a royal blue wrap-around dress, her blonde hair pinned back in an elegant twist and makeup on point. Malcom sat beside her in a suit with his dark hair cut short and styled to the side, nothing unusual there.
The room had this tension as I entered, and an imposing man stood from the couch. He was tall, definitely over six feet, and towered over everyone in the room. His dark hair was a buzz cut with just a little longer spiking on top. The charcoal suit he wore was undeniably high end because of the way it hugged his body perfectly. The top two buttons to his white shirt were undone, trying to give a relaxed feel that didn’t come to me.
I glanced quickly noticing some ink peeking out from under the top of the shirt, which typically wasn’t someone that Malcom and my sister would ‘hang out’ with. They were elitists. Not my sister by herself, but with Malcom they definitely stayed with what he would consider their higher class of people. Yeah, he was a pompous ass, but my sister wasn’t. She just happened to be in love with someone who was. My eyes scanned upward to meet this strange man’s gaze.
His eyes captured my attention. They were dark. Not black though. More like a deep blue, they drew you in, lured you like the depths of the dark ocean they seemed to swirl. An ocean where the sharks lived, ready to attack at the blink of an eye. There was no mistaking their look—authority, power, and unforgiving. I blinked, fighting back the intensity I found inside his stare.
He extended his hand to me casually. “Onyx Blake.” The deep baritone of his voice gave me butterflies in the pit of my belly, but something about him wasn’t right. The air didn’t calm; in fact, it grew even more dense like he was commanding the space. I knew better than that though. Malcom never let anyone take charge over him and especially not in his home.
There was another man with hair so dark it was midnight, also wearing a suit. His hair was styled back in a way that said he cared about appearances. He stood up as the man known as Onyx introduced himself in a way that said he had his back. His name was Garrett Monroe, I caught that much but didn’t give the man my full attention. It was unusual, considering Malcom wasn’t the kind of man to intimidate anyone nor was my sister. I didn’t have the inclination to care what they were here for. My life was falling apart, and I needed my sister. It was my sole focus since finding out I lost my job.
Shifting my gaze from Onyx’s, I didn’t shake his hand or reply. Instead, I dismissed him and looked to my sister. “Kennedy, sorry I came over unexpected. Can we talk a minute?” I was too on edge. The whole room—this scenario—felt entirely wrong. I didn’t want to be around these strangers, I just wanted a hug from my sister.
Malcom’s face had fury etched in his features, and his fists were shaking. He had never looked at me with such disdain before, most of the time it was with indifference. Sure, the man normally was standoffish, but what did I care? He made my sister happy and at the end of every day that’s all that mattered to me. He had taken care of us, so I didn’t need to be his best friend or have him shout accolades for me, just respect him as my sister’s man.
But the vibe in the room was telling me that Kennedy was part of this, not a bystander like I thought.
“Malcom, it’s obvious you’re in a business meeting. I can wait in the guest room until it’s over. Sorry, Kennedy is just usually available. I didn’t realize she was in the meeting too,” I rambled out to my brother-in-law while Onyx Blake stood in front of me watching intently. Finally, he put his hand down, but he continued to study me as if he were trying to read me.
I almost laughed thinking to myself, Hot mess found to your left, Mr. Blake, run as fast as you can away from a woman like me.
His gaze had my body heating up like the sun rising on the desert, going up and down me and igniting every inch of my body, like heating up the sand to scorching levels. I felt the flush crawl up my skin, no doubt reddening my cheeks and neck. With my pale body, there was no way to hide it, never could, my mother always saying it was one of my tells. My eyes locked on his and I became stuck in place, air swooshing from my lungs.
The way he took charge of a room was dangerous and all-consuming. Almost like the room was closing in, putting all of its energy on this man and forcing us to do the same. The concoction, I found to be threatening and unstable.
I took a step back as Kenn
edy stood in my peripheral vision. She grabbed my arm forcefully and led me out, calling behind us as I stumbled backward trying to keep up. My eyes stuck on the stranger’s even as my mind screamed for me to break the hold between us.
It was intoxicating. It was heady.
“Sorry for the interruption, continue on without me,” Kennedy said as Onyx moved in line behind us blocking our departure.
“No, stop!” he demanded in a deep baritone that held authority and rumbled through my belly once again. “I’ll take her. You want to negotiate on a deal that is non-negotiable. I want her for my assurances.”
Kennedy froze in place, causing my momentum to throw me off balance, making me stumble over my feet briefly. Her grip tightened on me so much that pain shot up my arm to my shoulder. I looked into my sister’s eyes and saw the tears already forming threatening to escape. What in the hell was going on here?
“She knows none of this, Blake,” Malcom stuttered, his demeanor changing to concern in a flash as he moved to us. I wasn’t sure if he was planning to attack this man, but if he did, Malcom would lose, big time. The Hulk himself would have a hard time tackling this man.
“I don’t give a shit. How do I know you two won’t flake out and fuck shit up?” Onyx’s tone never wavered. “At this point in time, you two owe me in order to keep any deal going. You broke the terms of our original agreement. It had consequences. I haven’t dished those out though, have I? In fact, considering the state of things between us, I think I’ve been a relatively understanding man. You knew what you were signing.”
My sister didn’t turn around to face the men as I watched her crumbling in front of me. Her entire body was visibly shaking. She was tormented inside, and I didn’t understand. My strong as hell sister, who had always been my rock, shattered to pieces on the floor, smashing into dust. I started to ask what was going on, but Kennedy squeezed my arm again and gave me a small shake of her head, silencing me. Confusion consumed me as my problems were forgotten. My mind raced with what my sister could have gotten herself into.
Cartel Queen Page 12
