CHAPTER 18
GREG'S POV
I stiffened the moment she asked me to tell her more about Christian. I thought she knew everything… or at least something about him and his line of work.
I stiffened to stone when she told me she didn't know anything about Christian's source of income. It was like I was staring at Medusa. Instead of being turned to stone by our eyes meeting, it was her question for me.
I swallowed and clenched my fists together, unsure of what to say. I cleared my throat and shrugged, trying to act as if nothing worked me up. But I knew Brenda wasn't stupid. She could have picked it up from either my countenance or how sweaty the question made me. Instead of remaining quiet and planting more suspicion in her head, I decided to cook up something to douse the suspicion.
After I told her Christian's 'supposed' line of work, Brenda looked past me. At that moment, I realized she knew something was off with Christian. Brenda was a nice woman who treated me more like a friend than a worker. Shit, I could even use her stuff and she wouldn't complain.
I felt something shift in me as I realized that in the mission of trying to bring two lonely people together, I might have just brought fire and water together. One will boil the other… while the other will extinguish the other.
Throughout the day, through the signing and trying to come up with a new bottle, I could see that Brenda would phase out at times. Just stare into something as if she's looking for answers there. I knew Christian was the one straining her thinking.
After work, I left her in her office and drove straight to the warehouse in town. I had hoped that I'd find Christian there and talk to him.
As I pulled up in front of it, there were twelve men outside, all disguised as regular people.
Three were playing chess on the far left. Others were drinking, holding beer bottles. I chuckled because they could have you fooled into thinking that they're just minding their business.
The bottles didn't contain beer, but most times they contained apple juice.
I walked into the warehouse, and there were even more men, packing all sorts of guns into wooden Buddha monuments. I walked past them, going to the back where Christian's office was. Instead of Christian, I found Massimo.
"Fancy seeing you here, pretty boy!" Massimo said with a tease in his voice. He walked up to me and hugged me.
"I thought this place was too… what was the word?" Massimo scratched his head as if trying to remember what I had said.
"Criminal! Yes, you said this place is too criminal for you!" he said, heading back to the chair.
Massimo oversaw things here if Christian wasn't around. Massimo is Polish. He's very huge. The first time I saw him, I swore he wasn't human. He was 6ft6, with long curly hair, which made him look more Greek than Polish.
"Good to see you too… where's Christian?" I asked impatiently.
"Why? Why do you need him?" He cocked a brow at me.
"Just tell me where he is… it's urgent!" I added an edge to my voice, making me sound like I was pleading—which indeed, I was.
Massimo's lips pouted, as if contemplating whether he should tell me where Christian is or not. He ran his hand through his curls and smiled. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he'd give in, but to my disappointment… the fool shook his head.
"I don't see any reason why I should tell you where he is! Go to his house!" he said, playing with a scissor.
"You know that nobody knows where Christian stays! Even if they did, it'd be a fortress!" I replied, getting annoyed by the minute.
The more I delayed this, the higher the chances of Brenda doing her digging and finding out.
"You're the one that doesn't know where he stays, plus a few more of us!" he corrected cockily.
"Fool, are you going to tell me where he is, or am I just gonna have to find him by myself?" I spoke firmly yet sternly, conjuring and holding onto my accent, and it kind of took him by surprise.
"Are you just stupid or dumb or both? Why didn't you use your phone to call him, fool?" Massimo asked, clearly surprised at my lack of thinking. Surprised isn't the word—he found it amusing.
Him mentioning it made me realize just how much of a coconut I was. If I had just called him, I'd have spared myself the trouble.
I turned to walk away. Just as my hand wrapped around the doorknob, Massimo's voice stopped me in my tracks.
"People don't visit Christian's house—only the ones he chooses."
I didn't spare him a glance and just proceeded out of the warehouse.
My apartment was dark. I put my hand on the wall, searching for the switch. As the lights turned on, I almost had a heart detach instead of a heart attack. There on my couch sat a man with his back to the door. He was drinking scotch—Belair scotch. His feet were on my mahogany coffee table. Four other men were with him.
I cleared my throat, making my presence known—although they already knew I was there because I turned on the lights earlier.
"We already know you're in, fool. Come here!" the man's voice said.
"That was a sample. It was supposed to be passed around to the old men in the village for reviews, but now I guess that's not gonna happen!" I said as I plopped next to him.
"I didn't drink the whole bottle, did I now?" he asked, a warm smile on his face.
"You opened it! The elderly are going to think that I shot cyanide in that!" I retorted with a hint of amusement. My eyes darted to his feet.
"Man, get your legs off my mahogany table!" I told him.
He simply shrugged but did as told.
"How have you been?" he finally asked, a seriousness settling into his voice.
"I have been okay. I was okay till earlier today!"
"What happened? And why were you at the warehouse? I thought I told you not to go anywhere near that place! Lastly, does you not being fine have any connection as to why you were looking for me?" Christian asked too many questions for me to answer.
Christian treated me like a younger brother. Sure, he cared for all of us, but he paid extra attention to me. Seeing how he treated me, I got used to him so much that I saw him as my brother.
When my parents died, we were moved to Eden. We stayed there, and I attended school. From early childhood, I was obsessed with computers, and I learned most things while I was still a child. My father was the group's hacker, and he taught me a lot before he passed. I studied cyber security and coding just to get a qualification because I was well-versed in hacking.
My relationship with Christian turned deep when he donated a kidney for me. I had kidney failure; dialysis wasn't really helping. I was suffering more health failures each week. They tried to find a donor for me, but it was all unsuccessful.
I didn't know how it happened, but after fainting and being admitted, I woke up the following day with Christian on a hospital bed across from mine. We bonded.
When I was back on my feet, I stopped working directly with them. Christian cautioned me into getting a job. I still code and hack for them once in a while.
I looked at him attentively. This was the second time that Christian cared for a woman romantically. This was the first time in years that he seemed genuinely happy.
"It's about Brenda!"
I saw him stiffen. I could've sworn that he halted his breathing for some time before replying.
"What about her?"
"Brenda asked me to tell her about you! She even asked me what you did for work!" I exhaled, looking at him as his countenance changed. "I had to lie to her that you had an escort company—that was the only thing I could think of at the moment!"
"An escort!" He chuckled. "Not bad!"
"Brenda is smart, Christian! She seemed to be debating whether or not to believe me! I think you should talk to her before she finds out on her own!" I advised, keeping my eyes on Christian's face.
He rubbed his hands on his scalp in an undecided way.
"Believe me when I say I want nothing more than to go to her… but I can't." His eyes showed a glint of sadness. I could see he was trying so hard not to turn soft in front of the guards present.
"What's stopping you?" I asked, eager to know the reason why.
"It's because of that motherfucker Trejo!" he snapped.
I stiffened at the mention of his name.
"One of our warehouses in Las Vegas was attacked. I figured he knew that I was there, and that is why he did it—challenging me openly. He can't know about Brenda. I'd be damned if anything happens to her because of me!" The last part was said with such pain.