Read Online Crave the Darkness by Amanda Bonilla - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Amanda Bonilla
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black dusters from the closet. “If you’re not there in fifteen minutes, I’m going to go looking for you.”
Marcus cleared his throat. I could practically feel his nervous energy reaching out like twitchy fingers through the phone. “I’ll get there as fast as I can. But, Christ, Darian, give me some time to get through traffic. It’s the noon rush.”
“Fifteen minutes, Marcus. Don’t be late.”
* * *
I’d never met any of Tyler’s people in the middle of the day. In fact, in all the years I’d worked for Ty, I couldn’t remember a single time an exchange had been made before midnight. All the more reason to be suspicious.
The Pit hadn’t opened yet, so I didn’t have to worry about prying eyes. Usually, I’d never meet anyone—not even Marcus—in such a conspicuous place to make an exchange. But the fact that Ty had sent one of his employees on this errand without at least calling me first left a bitter chill in the bottom of my stomach. Why?
I removed the emerald pendulum from my neck, just so I could count the passing minutes with perfect accuracy. I wasn’t screwing around. If Marcus was one
half
of a second late, I was going after his ass. Pacing from wall to wall in the narrow alley, I waited with what can only be described as forced patience. I fingered the dagger at my thigh, felt for the katana hidden under my duster at my back, and thought of the many ways I was going to use them t cto e. I fingo pry every little drop of information I could out of Marcus’s scrawny hide.
“You’re certifiable, you know that?” Marcus said, coming around the corner. Four minutes early, smart boy. Running a shaky hand through his dark, greasy hair, his eyes darted from side to side. Beneath a worn, too small AC/DC T-shirt, every soft bulge of his middle was visible. Still wearing the same torn jeans and secondhand army boots, Marcus’s wardrobe obviously hadn’t improved since I’d seen him last. Sweat beaded on his upper lip, and he scrubbed a hand across his mouth. He looked nervous as hell, and he should’ve been.
Without even thinking, I jerked my dagger free of the sheath and grabbed the little shit by the collar. Ramming forward, I slammed him in to the brick wall with all the care of a jackhammer and shoved the dagger’s point into the flesh at the hollow of his throat. “Marcus, you slimy piece of shit, I want to know what the hell is going on. Now.”
“Jesus!” Marcus whimpered. “Are you off your meds or something? It’s just a job, Darian. You don’t need to go all paranoid, psycho bitch on me!”
“Who sent you?”
“What do you mean, who sent me?” Marcus had graduated from whimpering puppy to squealing girl. “Tyler fucking sent me.”
“You talked to him?”
Marcus swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and he nodded his head. “Of course I talked to Tyler. Jesus-fucking-Christ, Darian. Who the hell else would send me?”
The dagger slipped from my grasp, clattering to the pavement at my feet. Tyler sent him. Talked to him. And not me. “You brought something for me?” My voice had lost some of its fire, instead returning to the hollow-sounding representation of myself that had been dragging ass around Xander’s house for the past couple of days. My chest ached, my heart constricting to the point that I thought it would crumble. What the hell was going on?
“You wanna take your hands off me?” Marcus must have noticed my systematic breakdown and thought it gave him the right to get cocky. “He’s pretty worked up about this job, said it’s a top priority. So if I were you, I’d step off the crazy train and get to work.” He pulled a folded manila envelope from inside his coat and dangled it in front of me. “Better get busy, don’t think you wanna upset the boss man.”
I took two steps back and threw the punch before I thought better of it. My fist caught Marcus square on the jaw, and he spun a full circle before his head knocked
Marcus cleared his throat. I could practically feel his nervous energy reaching out like twitchy fingers through the phone. “I’ll get there as fast as I can. But, Christ, Darian, give me some time to get through traffic. It’s the noon rush.”
“Fifteen minutes, Marcus. Don’t be late.”
* * *
I’d never met any of Tyler’s people in the middle of the day. In fact, in all the years I’d worked for Ty, I couldn’t remember a single time an exchange had been made before midnight. All the more reason to be suspicious.
The Pit hadn’t opened yet, so I didn’t have to worry about prying eyes. Usually, I’d never meet anyone—not even Marcus—in such a conspicuous place to make an exchange. But the fact that Ty had sent one of his employees on this errand without at least calling me first left a bitter chill in the bottom of my stomach. Why?
I removed the emerald pendulum from my neck, just so I could count the passing minutes with perfect accuracy. I wasn’t screwing around. If Marcus was one
half
of a second late, I was going after his ass. Pacing from wall to wall in the narrow alley, I waited with what can only be described as forced patience. I fingered the dagger at my thigh, felt for the katana hidden under my duster at my back, and thought of the many ways I was going to use them t cto e. I fingo pry every little drop of information I could out of Marcus’s scrawny hide.
“You’re certifiable, you know that?” Marcus said, coming around the corner. Four minutes early, smart boy. Running a shaky hand through his dark, greasy hair, his eyes darted from side to side. Beneath a worn, too small AC/DC T-shirt, every soft bulge of his middle was visible. Still wearing the same torn jeans and secondhand army boots, Marcus’s wardrobe obviously hadn’t improved since I’d seen him last. Sweat beaded on his upper lip, and he scrubbed a hand across his mouth. He looked nervous as hell, and he should’ve been.
Without even thinking, I jerked my dagger free of the sheath and grabbed the little shit by the collar. Ramming forward, I slammed him in to the brick wall with all the care of a jackhammer and shoved the dagger’s point into the flesh at the hollow of his throat. “Marcus, you slimy piece of shit, I want to know what the hell is going on. Now.”
“Jesus!” Marcus whimpered. “Are you off your meds or something? It’s just a job, Darian. You don’t need to go all paranoid, psycho bitch on me!”
“Who sent you?”
“What do you mean, who sent me?” Marcus had graduated from whimpering puppy to squealing girl. “Tyler fucking sent me.”
“You talked to him?”
Marcus swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and he nodded his head. “Of course I talked to Tyler. Jesus-fucking-Christ, Darian. Who the hell else would send me?”
The dagger slipped from my grasp, clattering to the pavement at my feet. Tyler sent him. Talked to him. And not me. “You brought something for me?” My voice had lost some of its fire, instead returning to the hollow-sounding representation of myself that had been dragging ass around Xander’s house for the past couple of days. My chest ached, my heart constricting to the point that I thought it would crumble. What the hell was going on?
“You wanna take your hands off me?” Marcus must have noticed my systematic breakdown and thought it gave him the right to get cocky. “He’s pretty worked up about this job, said it’s a top priority. So if I were you, I’d step off the crazy train and get to work.” He pulled a folded manila envelope from inside his coat and dangled it in front of me. “Better get busy, don’t think you wanna upset the boss man.”
I took two steps back and threw the punch before I thought better of it. My fist caught Marcus square on the jaw, and he spun a full circle before his head knocked
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