“Fuck you.”
“Been there, done that,” I say with a shrug. “It wasn’t worth the trouble.”
Tears of anger burn her eyes, which is what she leaves me with as she storms out the door. When it slams shut behind her, I inhale deeply, pushing down the urge to run after her.
Once I’ve calmed somewhat, I round the desk and take a seat behind it. I run my finger along the polished surface, whistling at all this wealth that I will enjoy burning to the ground. Reaching for the phone, I dial a number, ready to kick-start this shitshow right now.
“Hey, Stevie. Bad news,” I say when he answers. “Kong split. Something about Jaws gunning for all of your blood. He wants your empire, man.”
And watch the web I spin.
Somehow, I thought killing Kong would make me feel better. But all it’s done is make things so much worse. I suppose with every action there is a consequence, and this is mine. Killing Kong has changed the course of everything, but I suppose that’s the case when you rob someone of their life.
Poetic justice, some may say. I shouldn’t have thought it was ever going to be this easy.
“Fuck,” he curses, the panic clear in his tone.
This is the moment I swoop in and save the day. “Now that you’re a man down, how about you let me show you what real muscle does?”
“You want his job?”
“As I see it, you don’t have a choice. You need protection. I need money.” Leaning back in the chair, I place my feet on the desk and cross my ankles casually. “So what do you say?”
“Come see me tomorrow. I’ll text you the address.”
I hang up. The job is as good as mine.
It shouldn’t be this easy, but it is.
Gripping the medallion around my neck, I finally feel at home. This is one step closer to getting what I want, because the world is a jungle, and we’re all just fucking animals—we’re Jaws, Bull, and Tiger, and we’re ready to tear one another apart.