-•NATHAN•-
"I don't know," I seethed. "No one has a proper description of these people."
My father looked towards the aging man next to him. He was the landlord for the garages we found Ally and Alvin in. He was not happy to hear that our gang had picked his locks, but my father payed him to buy his silence.
The three of us sat in my father's office. He was interrogating me on a subject I tragically knew nothing about. If I did know who those people were, I wouldn't be sitting here, I'd be assembling a team for an assassination.
"Mr. Grain," my father spoke to the man. "Are you sure no one rented out your property for the day?"
The elderly man shook his head. "If they did, they didn't pay for it. There's no record."
You're a big help, Mr. Grain.
My father grunted and motioned his hand towards the door. "You're free to leave, Mr. Grain. Thank you for your help."
Mr. Grain rose enthusiastically from his chair, eager to leave. He casted a wary glance in my direction before he scurried out of the office door.
He'd probably never met real gang members before.
"Nathan," my father spoke stiffly. "Why the hell would you keep this from me? I'm not just your father, I'm your boss, boy."
It took me a long moment to answer him. If I was being honest, I didn't tell him because I wanted to prove I was ready to take on the Creeds. I wanted to prove to him that the Creeds no longer needed his outdated mindset. I wanted to prove that I could keep this gang above water without him.
That didn't work out too great.
"I messed up," I admitted. "I know that. What are we going to do to fix it?"
He pursed his lips and cleared his throat. "This is very serious, Nathan."
I scoffed. "Don't you think I know that?," I stood from the chair I sat in. "There's only one type of gang who would do this. I think you know who I'm talking about."
My father took a sip of his nearby liquor and shook his head. "We can't blame everything on the Blades, son. We don't have proof."
"But you admit your suspicious," I rivaled.
He nodded silently and motioned for me to sit back in my chair. I obeyed. "We can't go waging a war, son, not without proof, the treaty would be broken," he said.
When I become leader of the Creeds, that treaty is going to be revised by at least ten different lawyers.
"To hell with the treaty," I spat. "They broke it first."
My father rubbed his temples. "Nathan Pierce, my son, there are things that you just don't know. Be calm."
Things that I don't know?
"Enlighten me, father," I growled. "What am I missing?"
My father gritted his teeth, opening his mouth to answer, but his phone rang. He picked up the phone.
"This is Pierce," my father answered, sounding stressed. He swatted his hand in my direction. He wanted me to leave.
I gave him an infuriated expression but he shot me a warning look. I grunted and left his office.
I guess it was up to me to get to the bottom of this.
••••••••••••••••••••
It was Sunday afternoon.
I knocked on Kevin's door. There was so response. I knocked again and I heard a groan. There were heavy footsteps before he swung open the door.
His eyes widened. "Nate," he said. "Hey, I was just about to get ready."
"We need to talk," I stated.
He looked at me cautiously. Guilty. I hope he felt guilty. I hope he was scared, just like Presley was when he had cornered him yesterday.
Presley didn't have to tell me he was frightened. It had been written all over his beautiful face.
"Want me to meet you-," he began.
"This won't take long, Kevin," I said rigidly before barging past him and in to his room.
He shut the door and turned to me expectantly. I extended a hand for him to take a seat at the small desk. He obeyed.
"Nate, what is this?," he asked, crossing his arms.
He did not have the room to be impatient.
I rubbed my jaw before facing him. "What's your problem with the healer?"
The healer. It didn't sound plausible in my mouth. Presley Flint was much more then just my healer.
"The kid?," Kevin questioned.
I nodded once. "Him."
Kevin shrugged like he had no knowledge of what I was talking about. "I don't have a problem with him."
I narrowed my eyes. "You didn't like him from the beginning. Now I'm hearing that you're starting problems. I'd like to know why."
His expression hardened. "Why would you think that, Nate? Someone whispering in your ear?"
"Answer the question, Kevin. No bullshit," I grumbled.
Patience was what I was losing.
"I'm not starting problems," he answered darkly. "The kid just gets in the way."
I sniffed. "Gets in the way? He's less than half your size."
Kevin rose from his chair and took a breath. "He doesn't belong here, Nate. He also doesn't deserve half the praise he gets if you ask me."
I took a step closer to him. "Watch how you talk about him," I threatened.
"Look, all I'm saying is, how do you know we can trust him? No one ever made sure to look twice at him because he's looks like a kid, but what if he's a traitor?"
Anger. Frustration. Disbelief.
Presley had been here for three months, almost four, if he was faulty, I'd already have known.
I kept myself from flipping the furniture. "How do I know I can trust you? Answer that, Kevin. You haven't been yourself lately."
For a second, a dark look passed over his face but he shook his head. "All I'm doing is voicing my suspicions. It's just odd how you of all people would welcome this kid with open arms into the gang. You haven't been yourself either, not when it comes to him."
I laughed bitterly. "What are you implying?"
Kevin stared at me for a moment. "Nothing, it's nothing."
If I pressed any further, this conversation wasn't going to end well. It wouldn't even end in a conversation.
"I want you to apologize" I stated after a moment of silence.
Kevin's eyebrows went up. "To you?"
Idiot.
I scoffed. "No, Kevin. I'm talking about Presley."
He gritted his teeth. "I didn't do anything to him, why should I have to apologize?"
I walked to the door. "Because it's an order and if you refuse, I might just have to look into extreme measures."
Extreme measures. I didn't exactly know what that entailed yet, but it seemed to scare Kevin.
"Are we in agreement?," I asked before turning the doorknob.
Kevin nodded stiffly. "Yes, boss."
"See you at the meeting tomorrow," was my departing answer.
Everything was going to be fine, one order at a time.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"Is he a part of the K Blades or not?," I asked Tyler in the hacker room.
Tyler sighed tiredly. "I don't know for sure, all right?"
"What makes you have suspicion in the first place?," I asked, crossing my arms.
Tyler sipped on his coffee cup. "This Ross guy...," he locked eyes with me. "Doesn't he remind you of someone? Someone you know?"
I gave him a peculiar look. "Yeah, he does. I've been trying to put a name to his face since the beginning, do you know something that I don't?"
Tyler looked back at his computer screen. "Okay, look. I'm not saying this for sure, but do you think that Raymond could have a brother? A younger brother that no one knew about?"
Raymond, my greatest nemesis. Having a brother. A brother that could be Ross.
Tyler spoke again. "That's who he reminds you of, right? I stared at his face all day yesterday and I finally came up with the resemblance," he moved the computer screen my way. "See," he pointed at Ross's picture. "They look alike, don't they?"
I considered this for a moment. If Raymond and Ross were related—brothers, then Ross would have to have been registered on the gang roster. But he wasn't.
Don't jump to conclusions, Nathan. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding.
"The boss told me something about fingerprints, tell me about that," I demanded.
Tyler shook his head. "It was a lie. There's no way I could find information about fingerprints, I just told him that because the only evidence I had wasn't enough to convince him that Ross is one of the Blades," he sighed and waved a lazy hand. "You know how your father is."
I laughed and nodded. "Never likes to make moves without a hundred percent accuracy."
A question arose in my mind. "Let's say if Ross really is Raymond's brother and a member of the K Blades, wouldn't he have done something to Presley by now? Wouldn't he have taken him? He's the K Blade's top priority. The story doesn't fit."
Tyler tapped his pen on desk continuously, pondering the question. Then he shrugged. "Maybe Ross cares about Presley," I clenched my fists. Tyler noted that, he hastily offered, "Or he's waiting for the right time to pull a move."
I rubbed my hand over my face tiredly. It was getting late, even for me. "What do you think?"
Tyler's eyes bulged. "You're asking me?"
"Yes," I said. "Don't act surprised."
Tyler took a sip out of his coffee cup. "I think...," he trailed off, turning to face me fully. "I think that something doesn't feel right about this whole situation. There's too many gaps, Nate."
I stared at Ross's face on the computer screen. Tyler was right. I didn't feel comfortable, I didn't feel safe with all the unanswered questions. Something wasn't right. My father didn't seem like he was straining himself to fix it, so it was my problem now. All my problem.
And I would fix it. I would figure it all out. I would figure it all out once I took a steaming hot shower and slept for seven hours.