Piece by Piece

64. The Rolling Ball

In a haze that he never wanted to come out of, Davyn headed for his apartment. He took a quick shower there, changed his clothes and gathered everything he owned. This was it, he was never coming back to that place. He'd have the people at his fathers real estate business rent it out or sale it as soon as possible.

He would leave Chicago and never look back. His heart tightened the fraction of a second in which he thought about Ron, but he tossed the subject aside. He was livid that in spite of his best efforts, his little brother continued to try and kill himself. He was done. He loved Ron, but he wasn't his responsibility.

"Fuck this! Fuck everything," he mumbled as he hailed a cab and headed for his next and final stop.

The lair of evil hadn't changed at all. It was still under construction and a pair of apparently homeless men were keeping an eye on it. They both stopped roaming and their jaws dropped open as he approached. Davyn ignored them and pushed his way inside.

Two other men were securing the ground floor and headed towards him. They froze, eyes wide with shock.

"Yes, very effective," he mumbled.

"Boss?"

He didn't bother to answer and hurried up the stairs. Some more people called out to him, but he was definitely not interested in socializing. Soon enough, he pushed the door to the former office open. Nicholas Harkin was there, sitting behind the desk, looking over some papers. When he raised his face, he too looked as if someone had hit him over the head.

"Boss?"

Davyn charged around the desk, grabbed him by the collar and smacked him against the wooden surface . "What the fuck did you do?"

"I... I thought you were dead or something," Baron stuttered.

"Disappointingly enough, I'm still breathing." Davyn moved his hand to cover the man's neck and squeezed. "Now please explain to me what you did. Slowly and using small words."

"Everything's been going great," Baron choked out. "Our reputation... Your reputation... Our income has tripled. It's well beyond anything you could have predicted."

Davyn loosened his grip, a frown on his face. "And why is that?"

Harkin let out a laugh which was filled with glee. "Are you kidding? Every other street gang is terrified of us. Of you! This clearly showed that we mean business."

It sure did. Davyn stepped back, a small part of him swelling with pride. The rest of him, however, was filled with disgust. "Ah, yes, of course. And you have your scapegoat, just like you always wanted."

"That's not true. Look on the bright side! All the records are gone. No one can place us anywhere. No one can find us!"

"You imbecile, my description is all over the news! Everyone is looking for me! Me, not you! How long do you think it will take for the police to put two and two together and find me?"

Baron faltered. "But you went under. Disappeared for over four months."

He had, and he would do it again. It grated on Davyn's nerves that everything had gone so well for Harkin. He got exactly what he wanted from Snitch Gravel. "Did you do it?"

Baron frowned at the question. "What do you mean?"

He had to be kidding! But it answered the doubt swirling inside Davyn's mind. "The fire. The deaths. Did you do that?"

There was a long pause in which the man probably tried to gauge which answer would be more favorable. Fortunately, he seemed to remember who he was talking to and that lying was not an option.