Page 30 of The Fighter

I gripped the steering wheel as heat worked its way past my collar. Turned out my anger hadn’t ebbed. “You pulled a gun on him”

“From my perspective, he was beat to hell, all puffed up like he was ready to kill someone, and he had a knife.”

He had a point, but I wouldn’t concede. “You have never walked into my apartment unannounced.”

He inclined his head. “That’s the only thing I’ll apologize for, but in my defense I wanted coffee. Also in my defense, you never have anyone in your apartment. Not since…” He made a show of tapping his tattooed fingers on his thigh. “Not since that night at Collar.Also withTav.”

“Don’t say his name like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like he’s my middle school crush.”

“Well, then what is he?”

I slammed on my breaks at a stoplight. I turned and met Nik’s gaze. “He’s mine. I’m keeping him.”

To Nik’s credit, he didn’t show much reaction except for a slow blink. “Of all the men you’ve fucked, you decide to keep the one who’s built like a tank and looks like he went ten rounds with Manny Pacquiao?”

The light turned green. I stepped on the gas and the engine revved. “Yes.”

Nik remained quiet for a long time, still drumming his fingers on his leg. Finally, he said, “I liked that he protected you.” He gestured to his face, referencing Tav’s bruises. “How did that happen? What’s he into?”

“I don’t know. He’s cagey and skittish?—”

Nik stiffened immediately. “You need to be careful. What if he’s some sort of spy for Devlin?”

Tav laving my cock with his tongue while he makes pleased little moans. Tav thrusting back against me while I pound intohis tight hole. Tav calling meCon. Tav quivering on my balcony with true fear. Tav making me eggs in my kitchen.“He’s not.”

“How do you know?”

I could hear the sneer in his voice, and my anger flared. I beat my palm on the steering wheel and yelled at the windshield. “Because I know, Nik!”

His skepticism bled off him in waves. “Conrad?—”

“You have to trust me on this, Nik. He’s… he needs help.” I pulled into parking spot outside a familiar apartment building. Not as high-class as mine, but respectable. Nik peered up at it through the windshield. “What the fuck are we doing here?”

I pushed open my door. “Research.”

The apartment I needed to visit was on the twelfth floor. While Nik kept watch in the hallway, I knocked on the door and then waited with my hands behind my back. This would be a surprise to Shane. I’d never asked him for a thing. I’d provided him a job, an apartment, just about anything he could want.

But now, I needed something. I needed information. And no one knew this city, from the underbelly to the high society, like Shane. He’d worked his way through it on his back and his knees and was rich as hell because of it.

I heard footsteps. Then a pause while he likely looked at me through the peephole as he was smart enough to do. I stared back at that little warped bit of glass.

After another pause, the chain rattled from inside. The door opened, and there was Shane’s pretty face. He barely looked any older than he had over five years ago, when he’d been homeless and hungry.

Surprise flitted across his face, and then he smiled. “Conrad.”

The escorts didn’t know me as Soto—the guy they worked for. No one did. Usually the escorts dealt with Nik or one of the other bodyguards. But Shane had been one of the first sex workers Soto had taken under his wing, so Shane had some liberties. He thought I was Soto’s rarely seen second-in-command. I disliked lying to him, but it was necessary. Devlin couldn’t hear about my involvement in the business, and it wasn’t fair to put Shane in the position of having the knowledge of Soto’s true identity.

I’d created Soto eight years ago, when Devlin’s criminal empire had taken a strong foothold in the criminal underbelly of Detroit. I began spreading rumors about a challenger in the city, a man named Soto. Creating a legend out of thin air had been easier than I anticipated. Men like Devlin were paranoid and giving them aKeyser Soze-like adversary played into their insecurities. Soto’s deeds were whispered in the dark until his name alone was a threat. I gathered men who believed the legend, who had no idea Soto was more vigilante than criminal boss. All they knew was that we fucked up whatever of Devlin’s we could. They didn’t know that the sex workers I stole from Devlin were now protected, and their only clients—if they chose to stay in the business—were those who’d been vetted and made to sign contracts.

Soto burned warehouses, stole guns, and bribed employees to betray Devlin. He created havoc but only to Devlin. Most of Soto’s men—my men—didn’t know that those guns and drugs were handed over to authorities anonymously by a small, trusted group led by Nik.

I was both Soto and not Soto. Because Soto wasn’t one man; he was a reign of terror meant only to bring down Devlin. And absolve my soul.

Shane stood in his doorway, watching me curiously.