Keyon and Huck.
Keyon’s knuckles whitened against the cold steel of his handgun. The air, thick with the sharp tang of gunpowder and the metallic coppery scent of blood, clung to his clothes. He swept his gaze across the carnage on the warehouse floor—ragdoll bodies sprawled among tipped-over crates and scattered trash.
“We recovered the bomb that someone planned to place in your hotel,” Zane announced, his voice a low rumble as he strode to Keyon’s side. As Keyon’s best guard and second-in-command, Zane could handle everything here, but something kept Keyon from leaving now that the firefight was over. A knot of unease twisted in his gut.
“We can keep the explosives,” Dan, one of his other bodyguards, added. “It’s a decent amount of C-4.”
Keyon’s eyes narrowed, scanning the chaos. Empty cartons were gutted on the dusty floor, the residue of a hasty, brutal fight. Bullet holes peppered the cement wall like a constellation of tiny, dark stars. The place reeked of a sudden, violent job.
“The building is clear.” Zane’s eyes traced the same paths as Keyon’s. “Do you want us to pack it up, Boss?”
“Not yet,” Keyon murmured, his eyes locking onto a door with two dead men piled in front of the entrance. They were probably guards. What were they guarding? Why protect a simple storage closet?
The air grew heavy and tense as his men stood around him, their eyes wide and alert. Zane waved for another sweep of the building. Dan and Zane waited, their silence a question. Keyon’s thoughts raced. None of this made sense. The unknown Mr. Bentley was systematically working to unravel Keyon’s entire life. The man he’d never met, hiding behind a fake name, had spun his world sideways. Keyon would never admit it, but he could taste the raw irritation on his tongue, sharp and bitter.
So, what now? Mr. Bentley filled an empty warehouse with men to hide a single bomb for his hotel. First, that was stupid. Second, who leaked the information? Third, why wasn’t the bomb simply placed at the hotel? This whole scenario felt strange.
In moments like this, Keyon craved a quiet place to consider his next move.
“These men were amateurs.” Zane tucked his gun into the breast pocket of his black suit coat. “They couldn’t shoot.”
“They couldn’t aim,” Dan muttered.
Keyon strode toward the closet door, his boots crunching on broken glass. Three dead men were piled in front of the entrance like a grotesque game of Jenga.
“Move this.”
Two of his men, without a word, grabbed the cold corpses and dragged them aside, leaving slick, dark smears on the concrete floor.
Pausing, Keyon weighed the idea of a booby trap. Even with the risks involved, he still felt an undeniable pull to enter this room. The entrance called to him, though he didn’t know why. It didn’t matter. He always trusted his instincts. Cletus used to say that sometimes his gut was the only thing he could trust. As he got older, he decided that Keyon could only trust Keyon. Everyone else was either working an angle or trying to screw him over.
“Dan.” Keyon motioned with his gun. “Open this.”
Dan, a huge man, quickly strode up to the closet and tossed open the metal door like it weighed nothing. A paltry amount of daylight struggled to pierce the gloom of the tiny room through a small window at the top of the furthest wall. Even with the scarce light, Keyon immediately spotted the only thing in the room.
Anthony Castellucci sat tied to a metal chair in the center of a moldy rug.
“Shit.” Zane shoved past Keyon and hurried into the tiny area. “Shit,” he repeated.
Blood saturated Anthony’s chest, and someone had carved up his face with shallow strokes designed to inflict pain. As many cuts as there were, the most significant injury was the slice to his throat. Whoever cut his neck did a poor job and didn’t go deep enough.
Keyon’s eyes took in the scene with practiced speed. The killer, he assessed, was likely left-handed and short. A bleeding line stretched from ear to ear, a grotesque, crimson smile slashed across Anthony’s face.
“He’s still alive, Boss.” Zane began cutting ropes and zip ties. He wrapped his suit coat around the man’s neck. Together, Keyon, Dan, and Zane got Anthony to the floor. Zane was correct. The man was alive, but just barely. He’d lost a lot of blood.
“Blake.” Zane used his earpiece to talk to the guard outside. “Get here now.”
Keyon wasn’t surprised that Zane called Blake. The bodyguard was a former United States Army medic, still very skilled. As the veteran showed up in the small room, Keyon did some quick math. How long before Anthony’s father showed up to kill them all? Big Castellucci would murder everyone in this warehouse if he found his son dead.
And that answered why Mr. Bentley led Keyon to this place. A wave of depressing resignation washed over him. The fact that none of this surprised him was a stark reminder of his life. Keyon chalked it up to another day and another person trying to kill him.
A headache began to throb at his temples, but he stopped the urge to rub them. He never showed weakness around anyone. Any sign of vulnerability was a risk, and he worked to be mindful of what he showed, said, and did. He could never let his guard down.
“Why would Mr. Bentley go after the mob boss’s son?” Zane stood and let Dan and Blake care for the young Italian on the floor. “Does he have a death wish? We don’t even tangle with the mob.”
“This is a setup,” Keyon murmured. “When Tony dies, it will look like I killed him. I’m the one standing over the body. We are in the warehouse.”
“Shit,” Zane repeated. “Don’t let him die.” Zane barked at Dan and Blake.
“We got movement outside.” Dan lifted his head momentarily and seemed to listen intently to his earpiece. “Shawn says it doesn’t look good.”
Zane did that head tilt he did when listening to the radio chatter.
“Lorenzo.” Zane’s expression flashed with fear, but Keyon had expected this. He wasn’t sure he could feel frightened anymore. Inside was a hollow nothingness. Maybe this black hole was what happened when men got old. Keyon would be thirty-one this year. Of course, he felt eighty and had seen it all. Everything was just another day marching toward his death.
The headache at his temples increased.
“Stay here with Tony,” Keyon ordered. “And tell everyone no shooting unless I give the signal. I’ll talk to Lorenzo.”
Zane muttered into his microphone and gave orders. As he did that, Keyon walked back into the central part of the warehouse. Right as he reached the entrance, thugs threw open the door. Men burst in and spread out in a fan shape. All of Keyon’s men became statues.
The silence hummed with menace.
And then Lorenzo walked into the room.
The underboss was a few years younger than him but more knowledgeable than Keyon about everything. The mobster was a deadly shot with a soul as dark as night. Lorenzo was Big Castellucci’s underboss, and no one screwed him over in any way. That is, no one would mess with this man unless that person wanted to die. A grim smile toyed with his lips. Today might be his last day on Earth.
The man glanced around before his eyes pinned Keyon. Even his suit looked pissed off.
Keyon simply faced Lorenzo and dropped his guns to the floor. Lorenzo didn’t speak but waved to his guys. Two burly Italians grabbed Keyon’s arms and shoved him until he knelt. They secured his hands behind his back. One man punched him. His head snapped back with the hit to his jaw. Pain blasted his cheek. The good thing about men beating him was that he would feel something today.
Lorenzo stared down at him. Before a second hit, the Italian waved for the enormous men to step back. Keyon kept his expression neutral.
“Keyon.”
“Tony is in a small room in the back with my medic,” Keyon said, and decided that he’d better talk fast. Lorenzo was one of those men who liked to shoot first and ask questions later. “This wasn’t us. I didn’t touch him.”
“We were tipped off that this was your plan for a takeover.”
“Your information is wrong.”
“I told Big Castellucci I didn’t think you were that stupid.”
What Lorenzo didn’t add was that he knew Keyon’s secret. Lorenzo was one of the only people who knew that Keyon had sex with Tony. Tony and he had created a comfortable arrangement since they both had bodyguards, hated everyone, and didn’t date or talk to anyone who wasn’t a criminal. When they needed to blow off steam, they met up for what they called a business meeting. What was it really? Their encounters were a quick fuck to clear their heads and empty their balls. No one other than their private bodyguards knew about their sexual relationship. Well, the few guards knew Lorenzo.
“I haven’t seen Tony in over six months.” Keyon didn’t flinch away from Lorenzo’s stare.
“I’ve heard.”
“And I don’t do takeovers.”
“Then what is this?”
“A setup.”
Keyon hoped Lorenzo didn’t think this situation was because of a lover’s spat. Keyon would never beat Anthony Castellucci or try to kill him. For a conflict or any kind of altercation to occur, Tony and Keyon would have to care for each other. They didn’t care what the other man did. What they had was mediocre sex.
“If Tony dies, Big Castellucci isn’t going to believe you. You’re here with your guys, and his son is bleeding.”
“I know.”
“And he isn’t just going to kill you. He is going to torture you and then kill you.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Keyon said grimly.
Men, carefully cradling Tony, appeared as Zane strode to Keyon’s side. He waited. When Lorenzo gave a sharp nod, Zane cut the rope that secured Keyon’s hands behind his back.
As soon as Keyon got up from his knees, Keyon and Zane followed the group outside to where Lorenzo had parked his trucks. The bodyguards got the injured man into the back of an armored SUV. Blake got in with Anthony and seemed to be tuning out everything but keeping Tony alive. If Blake kept the mob boss’s son from crossing over, Keyon would give him whatever he wanted.
“You’d better find the man who did this to Tony.” Lorenzo scanned Keyon like he was a bug under his shoe. “And pray Tony lives.”
Lorenzo got into his car. They drove off like bats out of hell, and Keyon held out his hands. Just as he expected, Zane set his guns in his palms.
“If he dies...” Zane shook his head.
“I know.”
