Page 72 of Where Angels Fall

“Is it really settled if I make an enemy not just out of the Wraiths, but everyone he is associated with? You know I don’t pick sides when it comes to the gangs, but I also don’t make enemies like that either.”

I seethe, running my tongue along my teeth, waiting for the anger simmering inside of me to wane.

“He won’t be around for much longer, I assure you,” I grit out. “It’s not an issue.”

He watches me, reading into my expression, before glancing up to Kaleb behind me.

Rolling his shoulders back, his dark shirt stretches over his mammoth size. His mouth is resting naturally in something close to a smirk, always looking somewhat amused.

“You know I’m going to need more than that, Ash,” he murmurs, shifting his hips slightly, driving his cock deeper into the mouth of the girl kneeling before him.

“You want more? Okay, Harvey,” I lean forward, my elbows resting on his table. “Come tomorrow, with your shipment, I’ll have enough weapons to bring down a country, let alone the Wraiths. I’ve found one of the biggest financiers of his underground trade, and I always have eyes on him. I have hundreds of men who currently have enough fury to tear a man apart with their bare hands.” My words are coming out through clenched teeth. “All I need is a location. A single dot on a map, and I’ll end this for good.”

My chest heaves with a heavy breath, the weight of the world crushing down on my shoulders.

My voice drips with venom as I add, “And everyone else connected to him and his trade will be next.”

My chin turns over my shoulder, eyes flicking to Kaleb where he stands behind me. As always, he’s still. Watching and waiting. His face gives nothing away, no flicker of emotion, no tension in his jaw, nothing I can read or reach for.

Sometimes I wonder if there’s anything there at all. Anything other than detachment and devoid violence.

I’ve seen him stand over bodies without so much as a change in his breathing. For a moment, I wonder if there is grief stirring inside of him, after seeing his brother’s executed head. But I guess I don’t need his grief. I need his merciless hunger for revenge. And of that, I’m sure he’ll give me.

“You know, many people will take your side when it comes to this fight,” Harvey murmurs, his fingers trailing soft patterns along the dark raven hair resting in his lap. “Even the worst of us have qualms with the way Zeke does his business.”

I’m aware. But I’m also aware that it doesn’t come without a cost. Debts like those aren’t paid off easily.

“I don’t need people on my side,” I mutter, neck tilting to the side until it cracks. “I just need a fucking location. Bring me that, and I’ll owe you forever.”

A small whimper comes from the girl between his legs, stealing our attention momentarily. I’m shocked by the way the brutal man’s green eyes soften as he gazes down at her, brushing his knuckles softly down her cheek, skimming down her jaw which is stretched wide to accommodate his length. Her eyes flutter open, dazed and glassy, blinking up at him like he’s the only person in the world.

“I will tell you one thing,” he adds in a murmur, attention still stuck on the girl. “If you want to kill the snake, you need to find its nest. And I have a feeling that this particular snake burrows underground.”

“Underground?” I ask, incredulity in my tone. “You’re saying Zeke is underground?”

At first, doubt swarms my mind, but then I think of Leon who is currently holed away

In his room in front of a laptop. Everything he searches is locked like Fort Knox. Though he swears he will find a location, he just needs more time.

Time we don’t fucking have.

“Think about it, Ash,” Harvey adds. “No one has ever found where the Wraiths hide. No one's been able to find where he trades his women. It's got to be underground.”

My mind whirls with the thought, considering every option.

“I’m going to need more than just a hunch,” I say, thinking off all the possibilities of Zeke being underground.

Harvey finally lifts his eyes off the girl, the green darkening as he takes a deep breath.

“It’s more than just a hunch,” he bites out, all amusement fading from his tone. He leans back slightly, gaze drifting past me, unfocused, like he’s replaying something he hasn’t quite settled in his own head yet. “Had someone show up here not long ago,” he says. “She found her way to one of my docks in the early hours. Naked and dirty, disoriented and breaths away from death. Couldn’t tell me how long she’d been gone.”

His fingers still on the girl’s hair in his lap.

“Said she didn’t remember the way out,” he continues. “Just darkness. Tunnels. Stairs that kept going down. Then more stairs. And the smell of the ocean mixed with rot.”

My jaw tightens the picture he paints making my hands fist, aching for violence.

“She couldn’t name a street. Couldn’t even tell me which direction she’d walked once she was surfaced, so dazed with the drugs in her system.” He finally looks at me then, green eyes sharp. “I knew it was his doing the second we found her.”