𝐌𝐢 𝐃𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐚

𝟐𝟏

Blood has always been a constant factor in my life. From the earliest years of my life that I can remember, to now, it has never been unknown to me. Shedding it whenever I see fit has become a part of me, and I've learned to welcome it with open arms.

"At least turn him to you if you're just gonna watch him bleed out. His doe eyes are making me sick."

I roll my eyes at Talon's constant comments, and boredly kick Michev onto his back. He stopped crying out in pain minutes ago; his mouth is still hung open, but his short gasps for breath are the only thing escaping. We didn't get much information out of him, even with a knife deep in his stomach and a gun pressed against his head.

Marvin Michev: thirty years old, not married, no kids, lives alone in a shitty penthouse with new women every week.

He has nothing going for him besides the money that he drained from his personal bank account. The fact that we got nothing from him isn't surprising. What is surprising is that he held out for this long. It's been an hour since we've paid him a friendly visit, and I didn't waste any time. There is no time to waste when members are dropping like fucking flies.

It's been two weeks since Michael died, and we've been on the hunt for the mole and anybody that's working with them. Our first mistake was thinking that it was just one person or drug ring, and looking at each individual was wasting our fucking time.

We split up more and began looking into every ring that we're partnered with and have done business with. It doesn't matter if we've interacted once—they're getting looked into. I feel like I'm the FBI when all I want is things to settle down. Things getting out of hand is my least favorite thing, because then I have to put in more work that shouldn't have been needed.

Two more of our guys who went out of their way to avenge Michael found themselves in the same situation. Dead, and leaving us no clues as to what the fuck happened. A trail of dead bodies urged people to drop us and find business elsewhere, obviously taking their money with them. If I wasn't pissed before, I am now. Add on the fact that this has forced me to part from Ziya...scratch being pissed. I'm livid, to the point where I'd kill everyone myself if it meant that I could go to her.

"And...he's dead," Talon says, squatting down to press his gloved fingers against Michev's neck.

"Leave him, then."

I don't spare another glance at the body, leaving the mess behind along with the body. The sun is setting, and that should be a sign to stop—but I don't need rest. There's too much going on for me to attempt to. Why waste more time...

Talon catches up to me, slowing his jog to match my pace. The urge to roll my eyes is strong as he finds a way to hold onto me. He's been clingy these past few weeks. More than usual, and I've just let it be.

"Well that was fucking useless. Are we catching some z's before seeing what the hell Ambino wants?"

"No."