“Yeah—look at you, teaching me how to be all sophisticated and shit,” I grunted and shrugged. “Do you have my money?”
“Yes.” Weber opened his jacket and handed me an envelope. “I have a feeling that we’ll be doing business again—since I’m keeping your secret and all.”
“Don’t threaten me.” I felt my jaw tighten. “That might work on those North Side pricks you do business with, but that’s not how things work in the South Side. I could snap your neck before you could even wrap your fingers around that pearl-handled nine under your jacket.”
“Adrian Prescott is a very powerful man and a dangerous one.” Weber nodded, ignoring the fact that I just explained how easily he could die if I wanted him too. “You might have balls bigger than anyone that I’ve met—but they can still be chopped off and fed to you—remember that the next time you open your door.”
“I’m not scared of Adrian Prescott.” I shook my head back and forth. “I don’t know why I have to keep telling people that.”
“It’s not about fear, Mr. Knight.” Weber chuckled under his breath. “It’s about power. You sit down here in the South Side where I’m sure you have a lot of power—brute strength goes a long way when you surround yourself with thugs—but in my world? That won’t get you anywhere.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing I don’t want to live in your world.” I squeezed the envelope and held it up. “This is all I need right here—it’s more than enough power in my world.”
“The one thing that connects our two worlds.” He chuckled. “Until next time, Mr. Knight.”
“Yeah,” I smirked. “Just make sure you bring more of the power I care about when you come.”
I slid out of the car and slammed the door. I knew Weber was a scumbag. A North Side prick didn’t come to the South Side unless he needed some dirty work done. The woman he asked me to find appeared to be well off—probably someone he couldn’t ask one of the people on his payroll to find because he needed it to be a secret. I didn’t care, as long as I got paid. Hannah Clark didn’t want to be found—that was for damn sure. She lived off the grid, but luckily that’s the only place I knew where to look.
“You keep this up and you’ll be out of the South Side in no time—just like me.” Reggie adjusted his tie and grinned as I walked past him.
“You like it up there?” I turned back towards him. “How does it feel to put on a suit and pretend you didn’t grow up two blocks from here?”
“Pretty damn good, Brody.” He nodded, and his grin got wider. “I just got married to a nice girl from the North Side.”
“Congratulations.” I nodded and smiled. “Good for you.”
“You might get a girl like that, once you have some money in your pocket.” He started walking around the driver side of Weber’s car.
“No, I don’t think so.” I shook my head back and forth.
I’m pretty happy with what I got—even if I’m not sure how long it’s going to last.
I hated doing jobs for Weber, but the money was good. I was a damn walking cliché—a South Side thug willing to be bought by a North Side prick when they didn’t want to get their hands dirty, but fuck it. Selling out to a North Side prick was better than working for Jacob Durst. That might have been good enough for Rourke, but it wasn’t the life I wanted. Mainly because I knew I would be too fucking tempted if he put some money on the table next to a gun and told me where to point it. Rourke was able to resist that kind of shit—I wasn’t sure I could.
Reggie knew I was the kind of guy Weber was looking for when he made the introduction. He didn’t want people dead, he just wanted skulls cracked. Tracking down Hannah Clark was the first job he had given me that didn’t involve any violence. In the back of mind, I felt like it was more than a job—I was pretty sure it was a test. Reggie got his start with Weber the same way I did, handing out beatings to people who didn’t like the investment advice Weber gave them. Rich people sure seemed to get offended by the strangest things.
Whatever. At least he didn’t ask me to lay fists on Hannah Clark. I might enjoy roughing a girl up when she likes it in the bedroom, but that’s about as far as it goes.
Present day
“I forgot how good it is to wake up and have a nice tight spot for my morning wood.” I lit a cigarette and chuckled as I walked into the living room of the cabin. “We never got that with her before—she always had to run back to daddy dearest before the clock struck midnight.”
“Yeah.” Rourke looked up at me and nodded. “I finally got the television to work. We’re all over the fucking news now.”
“Man, they love running that North and South shit—you’d think Chicago was a fucking battleground with the way they over-dramatize everything.” I sat down in the chair across from Rourke with a hard thud.
“That’s the way it goes.” Rourke shrugged. “If we were accused of killing someone on the South Side or if we were from the North Side, it would just be another day in paradise.”
“I’m sure Adrian Prescott knew that.” I exhaled smoke and tapped ashes from the tip of my cigarette. “He knew the press would bury us before we could get a fair trial—especially if his princess was the star witness.”
“Unfortunately…” Rourke nodded. “They mentioned Josef Weber in the news story I saw a few minutes ago.”
Oh shit.
“Really?” I tensed up.
“They didn’t pin it on us.” Rourke leaned back in his chair. “The investigation is ongoing—whatever that means.”