The Butcher of the Bay Part II - J. Bree Page 0,87
doesn’t, but one of the Crow’s men comes through the little gate finally, all suits and earpieces like he’s some bigwig bodyguard and not a crime lord’s bitch-boy.
“The Crow is expecting you, go straight through.”
I nod and wait for the gate to swing open, the thumping in the back getting worse. He probably heard and knows he’s about to be delivered. I don’t know what the Crow wants him for but I doubt it’s because of his enjoyment of underage girls. Barring the kid, none of the Twelve turn their noses up at the Vulture’s auctions. Fuck, half of them buy from him on the regular.
I might fucking snap and kill them both.
I drive up to the fortress, the Crow and a dozen of his men waiting for me there. He looks like his usual stern self but there’s something different this time. Something about the way he’s standing there, one hand in his pocket and the other running down the buttons of his suit jacket, that is a tell for him.
He’s nervous.
Who the fuck is Bingley to him? Or am I about to be ambushed and taken out?
Fuck him, even with a dozen armed men he can’t take me. Still, I slip a gun out of my hip holster and slip the safety off just to be sure. I have Kevlar on too, my safety a little more important to me now I have a woman to go home to.
Her safety is everything to me and I can’t keep her safe if I’m fucking dead.
When I get out of the car it becomes clear that he’s nervous about the guy in the trunk and not about me. He steps forward to greet me, without shaking my hand because there’s fuck-all trust between us, and his eyes dart around my backseat.
“I didn’t want blood on the leather, he’s in the back.”
The Crow grimaces and nods. “I knew he’d put up a fight. He’s alive though, right?”
I shrug. “He was a minute ago when he kicked out my taillights.”
The Crow nods again. “Bill me, I’ll take care of it.”
Like I care, I can fix it myself but his easy attitude right now is setting off all sorts of alarms in my head. I don’t think he’s plotting to kill me right now but there’s definitely something going on.
This is not the man I’ve seen on official Twelve business. This isn’t the man that left the meeting all those months ago, back when I grabbed the Coyote to help find my girl.
This is personal.
I pop the trunk and the suits all rush to grab Bingley, hauling him to his feet and a few of them have their guns out as if he’s a danger. It makes zero fucking sense, he went down easy enough for me.
The second they turn him and he sees the Crow everything changes.
All the arrogance and quiet fury is gone and in its place is a snarling, spitting man fighting not for his life but to destroy his most hated enemy.
Well.
That explains some shit, doesn’t it.
He rips away from the men holding him and throws himself at us both. I raise my gun, ready to put him down but the Crow beats me to it.
A bullet in each of his knee caps in quick succession.
He lands face first into the stone pavement but he doesn’t scream or cry out this time, just struggles as he tries to get his arms free from the cable tie. Fuck, I think he’d rather lose a hand right now than be taken by the Crow and his men.
Interesting.
“We’ve got it from here, Butcher. Your work was sufficient, I’ll have my men bring down your money now.”
I nod and watch as they corral him into the fortress. The Crow doesn’t move from the spot but you’d think they were dragging a landmine between them at the look on his face.
“Old friend?”
He scoffs. “That man doesn’t have friends, only victims and pawns.”
I shrug. “Those types are a dime a dozen in our world, doesn’t make them hate a man like that.”
Two men step out from the house, bags full of cash in their arms. I charge a lot for my work, more than anyone else. That also tells a fucking lot about what just went down.
“He’s going to hate me a whole lot more while he’s chained to my basement floor by his throat. I’ll leave you to find your own way out, I know you’re a busy man.”