9. Shot Caller

B lack knee-high boots, a black halter-top crop-top, the same black sleeves covering his arms up to his biceps. Black fingernail polish. The blindfold. The ink along his spine. And on either side of him: bouncers.

Alexei stopped in front of the captive, then slowly lowered himself face-to-face with the bound man. A sigh escaped Alexei’s chest, and the space was so quiet, Kellen heard it. Even the bartender now stood motionless, watching.

Alexei’s arm moved from atop his partly folded knees, and he reached out and gripped the fabric of the hood on the man’s face. In a single small motion, he slipped the hood off and dropped it on the floor.

The man was gagged. Wild eyes immediately pinned Alexei’s face. The man searched the blindfold over Alexei’s eyes like he thought he might catch a glimpse through it.

Silence.

“Did you steal from me, Mateo?” Alexei’s voice came through the silence. Low, quiet.

One, two, three. Kellen only dimly became aware of the racing heartbeats in his throat. The sweat that had broken out all across his body. How he had stopped, stopped altogether, breathing.

The man on the floor burst into gagged exclamations. Alexei lifted out a hand against the man’s lower face, then curled polished fingers around the gag and yanked it under the captive’s chin.

“—I swear, I swear, I swear!” Gasps. The man was shaking so hard, he could barely speak. “I swear, I never stole a penny—please, this—this makes no sense! I’ve run this route for fifteen years! I would never—I would never so much as touch—a dime! ”

Alexei was silent. His face lowered a little, hands quietly overlaying across his knees.

“Please, Eros, god! I’m loyal, I’m fucking loyal, I always have been! ”

“You swear you never stole a penny,” Alexei said quietly. His face lifted again. Slowly, he straightened to his feet. He took a step backward and held his hand out empty in front of one of the bouncers. “Liars aren’t repentant, Mateo.”

“No—No, no, no―” The man’s voice suddenly became feeble. His eyes blew still wider, like he foresaw something in the pose of Alexei’s empty hand.

The bouncer beside Alexei lowered his arm to the holster at his hip and removed a handgun. Wordlessly, he placed the weapon in Alexei’s open palm. A USP, Kellen dimly registered as he watched Alexei disengage the safety lever.

“ Please! Oh my god, I—I confess— please! Please! Have mercy! ” The man’s pleading turned hysterical, his words becoming high-pitched and panicked—right up until one of the figures standing behind him moved forward and replaced the gag.

“Untie him and show me the hands of this thief,” Alexei spoke quietly.

Unwilling, struggling, the captive’s forearms were presented in front of Alexei.

It happened so fast. Arm outstretched and weapon aimed. Alexei’s manicured finger on the trigger. Two shots. Point-blank, tip of the barrel straight to skin. A gunshot wound through each wrist. Straight through the vital mechanics of the hand. Instant, irreparable damage.

Gagged screams cut the air as Alexei stepped back and returned the gun to the bouncer. He received the handkerchief the bouncer held out to him in return and began wiping the spatter off his hands.

“The team he betrayed decides whether he bleeds to death or gets dropped at the hospital,” Alexei said, still wiping his fingers. Level, slow. Not the slightest waver in his composure from what he had just done. “Ren.”

One from the group immediately stepped forward. “Eros.”

“You’re in charge of Route 90 from now on,” Alexei said before turning away.

It took Kellen another three seconds to realize that small figure was heading for the same doorway he was standing beside. Survival instinct overpowered the paralyzing shock in Kellen’s body. His fingers gripped the door handle behind him, and he pushed backward into it. He slipped through the doorway, then froze momentarily at sight of the hallway in front of him. Multiple doors. No exit signs in sight.

Footsteps—footsteps very close to the door behind him. Kellen darted forward, instinct leading him to the end of the hallway. No exit. No exit. The door at the end was locked. Kellen cast a glance at the entrance he had come through, then tried the next knob within reach. Unlocked.

This door came open easily, and Kellen slipped quickly through the entrance, back to the wall, glancing through the door he was quickly closing, paying far more attention to what might be behind him than what was in front of him.

There was light in the room. And as Kellen turned hurriedly to survey the space he had stepped into, he discovered he was not alone.

Time suddenly slowed. The pounding adrenaline flooding Kellen’s body lost its meaning. His heart seemed to freeze in his chest.

There was a little girl. A child sitting on the floor, her back turned. Long dark hair hung down her back in a slipped ponytail. She was busy. Busy doing something with colorful feathers that looked like they had fallen off a costume. She leaned over her work, her tiny form completely wrapped in creation of what she was making. She was humming to herself.

Skyler.

The name shot through Kellen’s mind and fully paralyzed him. No. No , something coherent in the back of his mind told him. No, it wasn’t. She had looked like that the last time he had seen her, but she would be older now.

And still, Kellen’s mind stalled on that image. A hazy feeling of slipping away. Back into the past. Back when he had seen a form so similar so often—and still so infrequently. Sitting in her favorite sunspot on the front porch. Swinging her legs from a kitchen chair. Singing along from her car seat in the Jeep Cherokee. Crayons, bits of ribbon, the cinnamon peanut butter sandwiches she loved so much.

The door behind Kellen opened suddenly, snapping his nerves back to reality. But he didn’t even have the time to turn around fully before someone walked straight into him.

Alexei stood an inch and a half from Kellen, his hand lifted into the tiny gap between them, lips parted with apparent surprise. “Excuse me?” His voice cut the silence.

Kellen finally remembered to breathe, the air instantly feeling scarce. He took a step backward.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” Alexei spoke, his voice suddenly firm, authoritative.

God, I’ve never…I’ve never misread someone so badly in my entire career, the thought dimly passed Kellen’s mind.

“Who are you?” Alexei demanded sharply.

Kellen swallowed, glanced feebly back at the little girl in the room. She was looking up now, still seated on the floor. The humming had gone silent. The face of a stranger stared back at Kellen.

Escape was a fading option. There were sounds. Sounds like someone else had come through the employees-only doorway and was approaching. Kellen still didn’t know where the exit was back here, if there was one at all.

What was this little girl doing in a place like this?

“Jay,” Kellen spoke finally. “It’s Jay.”

“The hell?” Alexei’s mouth twisted—something between surprise and skepticism. But he surely recognized Kellen’s voice.

The footsteps outside drew nearer.

“What the hell are you doing back here?”

Kellen’s lips parted. Hesitated. He swallowed. “I—I saw the…I was looking for an exi―”

Alexei clapped his hand over Kellen’s mouth and pushed him into the wall. His other hand shot out for the doorknob.

“Eros?” A female voice called from outside, and Alexei’s fingers froze on the door. One second. Two.

“Eros? You back here?”

She was way too close—within steps of the doorway. Kellen’s hand flattened against the wall, face ducking out of Alexei’s grip and eyes scattering across the room for a hiding place. A vanity, a rack of dark clothing, a full-length mirror—

And then Alexei’s hand lifted up against the side of his face. And before Kellen could predict what was about to happen, that boy had his other hand around the back of Kellen’s neck and was pulling his face downward.

Mouth-to-mouth contact.

Kellen registered what was happening entire seconds after it started. The whole-body weakness that shot through every muscle. Shock. The repeated misfiring in his mind as his thoughts tried to reconnect.

Wet, soft.

He still couldn’t move as Alexei drew back a few inches. And even when his thoughts began to work again, all he was left processing was the visual of that delicate silver jewelry piece pierced vertically through Alexei’s lower lip.

There was a distinct moment of confused silence. Alexei’s hand shifted a little farther up across Kellen’s face. His lips were parted—from the kiss, maybe, but there was a strange hint of mirrored surprise in the expression.

He was feeling out the shape of Kellen’s face, it suddenly clicked in Kellen’s mind. And with the realization, he flinched away. Kellen took another hurried step to the side—out of his cornered position against the wall.

Alexei stood there like he was dumbfounded, his hands frozen in the air, a face’s width apart. Then, barely a breath: “Eastland?”

And it was another five seconds before the paralyzing realization sank in. Kellen’s back went rigid, every muscle in his body stiffening.

“I see you found a new plaything.” A female voice joined the heavy air. But only Alexei seemed to snap out of his surprise. He turned to face the woman behind him.

The bartender. The one with the high ponytail. She held out a small velvet pouch, and Alexei accepted it. “I’m headed out,” she said. “Totals are waiting for you on the bar.”

Alexei nodded wordlessly. He stood there, staring sightlessly after her, until the sound of an outer door shutting came through the silence.

Left side of the hallway, Kellen judged by the direction of the sound. He side-stepped to the right of Alexei. Then took another step toward the open doorway.

“Jay.”

Kellen froze.

“This space is for employees only. Never come back here again.”

Kellen nodded quickly. “Yeah.”

“I trust this means I’ll see you again,” Alexei said. Warning. His voice rang like a warning.

Kellen licked his lips. And instantly regretted it. His hand lifted half-absently to his mouth and wiped at it. Leave. Get out. His name was compromised, and he had no idea what else might be. Now was the part of the operation when he had to say anything necessary to get out of this building alive.

And yet, the paralyzing hesitance. A burning, suffocating, all-encompassing need for answers. Staring at this blindfolded figure in front of him and knowing this person had those answers. “How dangerous is it going to be for me if you do?” Kellen whispered finally.

A small smile touched Alexei’s lips. “I take good care of my regulars.” Then, the smile fading off him, “The exit is at the front, Jay. Don’t get lost again.”

It was like an afterthought, right as Kellen was passing the doorway: “I’ll meet you at your car in twenty minutes.”

He walked past someone mopping up blood on the way out. The people were gone. Only a few of the bouncers were left, two of which served Kellen heavy looks, but let him pass.

Heart pounding, Kellen got into the driver’s seat of his rental. His hands gripped the steering wheel, an internal battle immediately breaking out—whether to leave, whether to stay and wait.

He was slick with sweat. If his composure hadn’t given away how nervous he was in there, his physical state certainly did.

And now it made sense. Alexei had been referring to ultimate power when he said there was one ringleader. And he could do that with such ease because he was a ringleader himself. The informant was one of the very people this operation was targeting. One of the very same that had eluded detection like smoke evaded capture.