"Let's make this quick since I have somewhere to be." I start, and lean against a wooden column in his office.
Sitting back in his chair, Ace inhales his newly lit cigarette with confidence. "A man getting right down to business now, are ya?" He chuckles. "I remember a time when you would've just come in here and put a gun to my Father's head to bargain for whatever you wanted."
"This way ensures I have loyalty from the ones who claim not to pick sides."
"And he was murdered." His smile weakens. "That's a factor as well."
I clasp my hands in front of me. "So is me, my Father, and 15 Rite men spending ten months with your family tracking down the fucker who did it."
"And you found him." He grins with a glint in his eye and rests his elbows on the surface with semi-interlocked fingers. "Tell me again what happened. It's a great ending."
My jaw aches as I recall the act of many that still causes me to have trouble sleeping. "His house was set on fire."
"With his wife and three daughters still inside." Ace shakes his head and shuts his eyes; breathing deeply. "That's the man I remember. One who takes charge."
"As a terrified 14-year-old longing to be accepted by his Father and the world he ran in, I was only doing what I was told."
"I'd describe you as a lot of things back then, Grim, and "terrified" ain't one of them. Besides, I remember the meetings." He snakes in with a point of his cigarette. "Of all the shit we discussed, settin' them on fire wasn't one of them."
"I didn't give a shit about any of that. I was told I'd be enhancing my own family name and making them proud, not getting vengeance for yours, so I naturally thought they were useless."
"Either way, the honor in both of our families was restored thanks your unsighted determination, so I say we count it." He chuckles wickedly. "Where's the kid you guys pinned it on? Didn't those Manelli fucks put him in the ground?"
"Ace." I stiffen. "If you want to continue down memory lane, I'd be happy to pop a bottle of whiskey with you and talk through the details of how we found your Father naked, tied up, and with his boy toy's cock in his mouth along with a bullet in both their heads; but I don't know if you want to do all that."
Letting his cigarette burn, his eyes flash over with anger.
"I came to talk business, not fond times of our youth. Can we do that, or do I need to find one of your rivals to sell me a dream? Because I honestly came to you first out of respect."
After a second, his thin line of content swifts into a smile and the water in his eyes disappear. "Of course not." Stumping out his cigarette, he stands. "This is Paradise and I'm the captain."
Rounding his desk to the right, Ace approaches a bookshelf and knocks over the miniature standing figurine of three monkeys covering their eyes, mouths, and ears. With a push of the shelf to the right, it lifts onto it's own track and slides to reveal a reinforced steel door behind it.
"Watch the 007 bullshit I have to do to get into this thing." He sneers as he puts his face to a scanner and closes his left eye. After a beep goes off, he puts a thumb to the same screen where another beeping takes off and the door finally cracks open.
"See?" He laughs distastefully and pulls it open further; beckoning me to follow him inside.
Cocky idiot. With a taste for attention like that, he'll get himself killed one day.
"Step into paradise, Reaper." He sings.
Doing as I'm told, I head in and absorb the sight of heavy assault rifles crowded by the dozen on the left wall in a neat stack, with cameras of all various shapes and sizes spread across the stone barrier in front of me.
To my right, from ceiling to floor numerous devices likely to be explosives lay as perfect and elegantly as his family's jewelry.
Moving up to a glass case in front of a wall filled with bigger bombs, I jab a finger towards the line of writing pens and golf balls. "Gasses?"
"All kinds."
I sigh with a shake of my head. "You're built like a fucking army."
"It's the root of the family business." He snickers. "You couldn't have honestly thought we stayed afloat selling engagement rings, hm? So, what do you need?" He sets out. "I got just about everything with more in the back."
"All of it." I look to him without a flinch in my word. "All-access. 24/7."
"That's impossible. The charge alone would break your bank and if Sarge finds out-"
"Sarge won't know anything because I'm not paying you."
His eyebrows flex as my sentence settles in the air. "You want to run that by me again?"
"You owe me for what I did to Manelli. Consider this my payment."
"That debt was settled cause you're the motherfuckin' Grim Reaper now."
"No, I made that name for myself before I poured the gasoline and lit that match. It was earned in a fair fight before I got tricked into shitting all over it, and it's still stuck to me after spending years trying to scrub it off." I state. "So, for tarnishing my name in the first place, I get full clearance. No questions asked."
Ace stares on; looking me up and down as his jaw crunches to the left. "You know I've heard of the kind of man your Father was to you. I heard he beat you like an unwanted, flea-bitten dog on his best days."
With hands still clamped together, I frown as the hand tucked under the other curls into a fist.
"Before the shit you did for my family, I used to see you with this homeless kid. I only saw you guys together a few times, but I remember how close you two looked." Sticking his hands into his pockets, Ace begins to walk to my left.
"And it was no secret your Father hated seein' you two together. He thought it made you look soft, right?"
I stay silent as he goes on.
"Funny. After the work you did for my family with Manelli, I didn't see him around anymore. And the rest of the Manelli crew had no reason to go after anyone because they'd found the one who was responsible and they buried 'em. Alive." He leans in to whisper. "I watched."
Letting his statement suffocate the already strained air between us, his eyes don't drop from mine. "What was the name of that kid again?"
"Careful. You're like a cheap recorder remembering small bits about my past like that. And fragile material like your brain can easily be cracked open."
"Don't worry, it's been so long no one would even believe me." He smiles some. "You know, Grim, I can be an ally to you, if you let me."
"You don't have anything of value in that hollow container."
"You sure about that? I know people in high and low places." He battles. "As a neutral family, we sell to all types and I've made a lot of friends from all over."
"Are you proposing to be my pigeon?"
"Informant, but yes." He delivers matter-of-factly. "I become your eyes and ears, and you can have the access you want."
"And what do you get out of it?"
"Just protection from your crew today and until you're done with my services."
I scoff; looking around the room of weapons. "Protection from what? You could battle the North Korean army with some of this shit."
"That doesn't mean I want shootouts. I have a family to consider." He swallows and leads me out of his room of weaponry where the steel doors begin to close automatically behind us. "Like I said, we sell to everyone."
"I'm guessin' you weren't just talking about bracelets and tiaras."
"No, and we not only sell that massive land of beautiful shit you just saw, but also some harmless stuff as well. They still do damage but-"
"Get off me!" A shrill voice from outside of Ace's office turns both our heads and creases my eyebrows.
With curiosity leading my pace, I head towards his office door and pull it open; spotting a tanned Caucasian girl in long individual braids; no older than 14 in an overly long black hoodie and stark red leggings being held at the arms of two of Ace's men.
"What the hell are you doing?" Ace calls; moving past me.
"We caught this kid sneaking in and trying to steal from the buffet, sir." One of them states.
"You're a fuckin' liar!"
"Just take her to the back for me to deal with later. You're making a scene in front of my goddamn customers."
I step up next to Ace. "What's the problem?"
"Nothing, man, Sparrow's just a Birdie in these parts. She belongs to a group of rats who you pay in dollars or heroin to keep their ears to the ground." He gets in her face and caresses her cheek. "I've been trying to get her off the streets and give her a nice life right next to me in my club. Right, Sparrow?"
Snatching Ace's collar, I yank him away from her and fling my hand to his throat before squeezing. "Neutral or not, I don't want to ever hear anything that disgusting come out of your mouth again." I shove him away from me where he stumbles back into a wall.
"Let her go." I direct to his men and with worry sprinkled over their fear, hesitant at first they comply. And once doing so, Sparrow pulls herself free only to turn and kick the one standing closest to her in the balls.
Smirking as he dropped to his knees; clutching his groin, she turns to me with an unsteady expression. "You're Grim, ain't you?"
"What about it?"
"You know a girl named Bobbi?"
I find myself strongly disliking everyone knowing her name. "What about her?"
She shifts from one foot to the other. "I work for Dom and he said since she's to be part of the family soon, I'm to be posted on her block; 10 above it and 10 below. And whatever I find out about her, I tell you." She huffs. "Well, I just seen two men braggin' about bein' in her apartment."
My mind locks up. "What?"
"You can't trust a stupid Tweety bird." Ace snorts. "I told you they'd do anything for-"
"Shut up already!" Sparrow shoots at him. "I ain't no liar, ya dumbass and Dom keeps his birds clean and fed." Her eyes swing to me; appearing wider and more urgent. "Mister please, I took a cab all the way up here to tell you and I used my own money to do it, so this ain't no trick."
"I'm callin' your bullshit!" Ace announces before directing a finger at her. "Now get out of here with your fuckin' lies before I-"
"I saw them with my own eyes comin' out her door." She claims; ignoring him. "I followed 'em and I even managed to pickpocket the taller and more stupid lookin' one before they took off around the corner."
Digging into her pocket, she holds up a long chain with a spinning heart that I instantly recognize and capture.
Unconditionally
And in running a thumb over the silvery engraved word, the line of blood dotted around it turns me blind with an irrational sense of fury.
∴ ∵ ∴ || ∴ ∵ ∴
Hey, it's Bobbi, but of course, you already know that. Leave something good.
Hanging up after what must've been my 9th or 10th call, with an array of the worst possible scenarios swarming my brain like angry hornets, I grip the gun tight in my hand as I approach the 3rd floor of Bobbi's apartment building and hammer a fist on the front door. "Baby, open up!"
"You the landlord?"
I direct my attention to a feeble dark-skinned man standing in the doorway next to me with gray tufts of hair, crossed arms, and a cigarette in hand. "If you are, I got a complaint about the sounds comin' from that place about 30 minutes ago. Them fuckers sounded like they were hostin' a fight club. At 3 in the goddamn morning, can you believe that?"
"A what?" Steadying my sights back to the door, I step back and raise a boot to kick it in.
"Hey, what you doin'?" The neighbor shouts at me, but already inside with the guidance of my barrel and whatever senses I had left, I ignore him in my search for answers.
"Bobbi!" As I ease my way through her dimly lit home, my eyes catch every piece of tattered or shifted furniture that tells the story of a massive struggle. "Baby, it's Noah. Answer me!"
Eyes frantically swaying left and right, I stop dead at the crimson red puddle thickening over her fluffed white carpet; immediately noticing the streams that thinned out and drifted around the corner as if something had been dragged through it.
Or someone.
A distant wheezed cough forces me to swallow my worst fears; burying them before they could rattle every nerve in my body as I cock my gun and steadily move forward with caution and a shaky breath.
"Bobbi?" Releasing the air I held, I peer around the edge of the wall; slowly trailing the line of blood upward where it ended at a familiar ankle bracelet chained to a limp, brown foot sprouting from the doorway of her bedroom; and my heart snaps in half.
"Bobbi!" Collapsing at her feet after running through quicksand, tears flow to my eyes at the brutalized sight of her mangled body that struggled to take a breath.
"Jesus Christ." My voice cracks at the horrendous vision of her curls matted to her forehead with a mix of sweat and blood spreading down to her swollen-shut eyes, cracked lips and caved in cheeks. "Bobbi..."
A twitch of her hand and the gasped but groggy response she gives finally gets me breathing as uncontrollably shaky hands take hers in an effort to give comfort. "Shhh baby, I'm here, but don't move, okay? I called for help on my way here and they're on the way."
Her fingers gently squeeze mine; rocking me out of place as I practically throw myself towards her barely moving lips. "What was that, sweetheart?" Leaning in for a better listen, her voice was raspy and just above a whisper.
"My... Fault..."
"No, don't say that." The rage surging through me smashes into accountability as a new wave of heartache washes over me. "It's my fault for not setting up any security and letting some fucker think he could do this."
Through my admission, the sickening taste in my mouth still festered with a thirst for blood and vengeance. "But I'm gonna find him. And I won't stop until I've torn apart every inch of New York to do it."