Cross (Dark Kings 3)

“Didn’t know you made deliveries, Luca,” I say, letting the door close and lock behind me.

“Well, I just couldn’t pass this up,” he jokes.

“What is it that you found?” Bones asks.

Luca reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a handful of something. Then he drops them onto the table. Bones walks over to them and picks one up.

It’s a diamond! “Where was he?” I ask.

“Glass.” The strip club that Luca and Bones own together. “He owed one of my girls three grand, and when he couldn’t pay in cash, he offered her one of these.”

“Where did you get this?” Bones asks him, handing me one of the diamonds. It’s one we’re looking for. The special order was for black diamonds. They’re not as rare as red ones, but still hard to find.

The guy remains silent.

“Did you purchase them or steal them?” I wonder. We’re not sure if Kale fucked over our client or not. We just know our client is pissed and wants what he paid for. You can’t ensure a transaction that is illegal in the first place. So, he’s out ten million.

“Fuck you.” The man sneers at me.

I hand the diamond over to Titan. “How many did he have on him?” I ask Luca.

“Six,” he answers.

Bones sighs. “The order was for twelve.” Then he asks the man, “Is this all you have?”

“Fuck you!” He shouts this time.

“Here, make sure these are returned,” Titan tells Luca, handing them to him.

“Maybe he swallowed them,” I offer. People will do stupid shit to hide what they want no one else to have.

Bones smiles. “Let’s find out.”

Nite produces a pocketknife from the inside of his leather jacket and hands it over to Bones, who cuts the ropes tying the man to the chair.

I walk over and yank it from it, throwing his back onto the table. I pin his legs down while Titan holds his shoulders down. Luca comes over and rips the guy’s shirt open, exposing his hairy chest.

The guy begins to scream, and Luca slaps his hand over his mouth to quiet him. Not because we don’t want anyone hearing him—the room is soundproof—but because we don’t want to have to listen to him. Like the others, he has made his choice.

Bones pushes the blade into his flesh right below his sternum, cutting the skin and dragging it downward. The guy’s muffled screams turn to outright sobbing while blood pours out and onto the table as we play operation on him, knowing we’ll be burying a body later.

_______________

IT’S A QUARTER till three when I pull up to her bar. Hers is the only car left in the parking lot. Getting out of mine, I walk up to the back door and enter. Grinding my teeth, I’m irritated that she leaves it unlocked. That’s not fucking safe.

I walk down the long hallway and come to a stop when I see her standing behind the bar, cleaning it off with a towel, softly humming to herself. She turns and jumps, letting out a scream when she spots me. “Jesus, Cross.” Her hand goes to her chest. “What the fuck are you doing? Creeping?”

“Well, if you’d lock your door …”

“Don’t start with me.” She slaps the towel on the bar. “I’m not in the mood.” Then she disappears into the cooler.

I make my way over to the bar and sit on a stool, waiting.

“What do you want?” she asks when she returns.

“I thought I’d tell you congratulations to your face.”

She snorts. “You spoke to Bones.”

“Not exactly,” I say vaguely.

“Well, thanks. you may leave now.” She points in the direction of the back door. “You know your way out.”

I stand and am about to do as she states, but something stops me. I knock my knuckles on the bar and turn to face her once again. “Listen. I came here to apologize.”

“Apologize?” She arches a brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “For?”

“Grave ... April’s brother.” My arms go wide before dropping them to my thighs. “All of it.” I fall back down onto a barstool. “I never once tried to help Grave. Bones was so hard on him. Grave pushed him away because of that. Titan just did his own thing. But me? I enabled him. I partied with him. Did drugs with him. Covered at Kingdom for him. I didn’t know how to help him. And I didn’t want to. If I didn’t have him, then I had no one to help me bury my problem.” I slam my fist on the bar, hating that I’m admitting to her that I have my own issues. “I knew it was wrong but just didn’t seem to care.”

She looks like she wants to question that slip I just made about my problem but thinks better of it. Instead, she sighs. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not my place.” Reaching across the bar, she places her hand on mine. “Just like you said, he’s not that person anymore.”