Chapter Thirty
Dominic
As I walk toward Aiden, I have that feeling of confliction again.
There are too many things on my mind competing for my attention.
It’s bad enough that the last few days have been shit with more dead soldiers and unanswered questions, but it doesn’t sit well with me that I found Candace’s father and uncle’s names on that list.
When I remember what her father said to me all those years ago, acting like he was some kind of fucking saint it pisses me off when I think of what he must have gotten up to.
My brothers and I agreed we wouldn’t say anything to Candace until we fully investigated what I found.It’s just that it feels like I’m keeping one more secret from her.This one’s a big one she’ll want to know because it might tie into why her parents were murdered.
Aiden smiles when I get up to him.We agreed to meet early to check out an address we found for Peter Dawson.
“You okay, old friend?” he asks and I dip my head.
I told him about the names on the list, but it was difficult explaining about the Riccis.
“I’m anxious and eager to see what we can find here.” I look around the place and knit my brows.
This area is Harmsworth, the next town over from Stormy Creek.Back when I was a kid I thought Stormy Creek was shit, but people who live in Harmsworth have it worst.There’s a trailer park over from us and a row of dilapidated buildings to our left.The whole town looks like a dive with a bar and a few shops that look like they’ve seen better days.
“Me too, I don’t like this place.It reeks of desperation.”
I agree when I look over at a burly man with a long beard leaning against the wall of the bar.He’s staring at us, assessing us.He was watching me moments ago when I parked my motorcycle.He looked like he wanted to steal it.One look from me and the flash of my gun put his ass in his place.
“Let’s go. The address we want is over there.” I point over the row of buildings to an apartment block.To get to it we have to go down an alleyway filled with market stalls.
We start walking. When we turn down the alley, we see the stallholders have just started setting up for the day.
People look at us as we walk by, but we keep our gaze trained ahead.
The apartment complex smells of piss and shit.When you’ve been around places like these as much as I have, you develop a strong stomach.Since I’ve been out of the game for a little while, though, I fight the urge to gag and vomit.
“Fucking hell, the place smells like a shitter.” Aiden frowns.
“You can say that again.”
The apartment we want is at the end.We got the address from Nick, Tristan’s street guy.He found the place listed in Peter Dawson’s name, but the listing was from a few years ago.We're about to find out if he’s still here.
I knock on the door when we get there, and we wait.
There’s a shuffle of feet on the other side, then whispers.It sounds like two women talking.I glance at Aiden, but he’s looking at the door.
It opens, and a dark-haired woman who looks like she's in her mid to late thirties stands before us with a wary expression.The angry bruise under her eye was undoubtedly caused by a fist, and she has that spaced out look I got used to seeing amongst some of the patients at rehab.Her dilated pupils is a tell she’s on drugs and like the place, she looks like she needs to be saved.
“Are you our ten o’clock?” she asks nervously.
“No.”
“You’re early, we’re just with another client.”
Aiden cuts me a glance and I look past her to see another girl in a negligee peeking out from the corner of the living room wall.When I listen carefully, I can hear people having sex in one of the back rooms.
They're prostitutes. I don’t like shit like this, and that girl trying to get a look at us couldn’t be more than sixteen.
“What is this place?” I demand and snap my gaze back to the woman in front of us.