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CHAPTER 77: A PIG IN BLUE
A PIG IN BLUEBrooks knelt down beside the body bag, boots planted firmly in the wet mud as the tide rolled past him with a hollow, rhythmic hush. He looked at Damien, studying the man's features. But he just had on a cold expression, void of any emotion. At first he wanted to speak–ask Damien if he truly meant what he said when he denied not knowing Ryan personally. But then he decided against it. His reaction after seeing the body would tell him everything. The wind flapped against the edges of his coat, lifting its sleeves like impatient fingers. He pulled at it, constantly adjusting the fabric as he leaned toward the bag. Breath steady, he grabbed the zip and pulled it down. A horrid stench oozed out of the bag instantly, clouding the air before them. The men recoiled and even Brooks had to take a step back too. But Damien didn't look affected. He just stood there, studying the corpse. Brooks followed Damien's line of sight to the body and really looked at it this time. The
CHAPTER 76: IDENTIFIED
IDENTIFIEDDamien lifted his legs from the mud gripping at his feet and stepped forward. His eyes remained fixed on the body bag as his chest tightened the more. It was big–big enough to hold Ryan's size–and its girth seemed just enough. Before him, the dockwaters shifted, stepping away from the corpse as they approached. But their eyes never left Damien. They studied him as uncomfortable whispers swept through them. “Hey boss," one of them called out, not bothering to lower his voice. He squinted at Damien openly, pointing. “Who the hell's the rich kid?" Before Brooks could give an answer, Boyd's voice carried loudly from the boat as he secured the rope to a small stump. “That's what I asked!" he barked as he gave a throaty laugh–one that sounded closer to a cough. A couple of the men snorted and another clapped his partner on the shoulder. The sound of their amusement echoed over the empty place, a sharp contrast to the solemn setting. Damien ignored them but Brooks shot them
CHAPTER 75: ACROSS THE WATER
ACROSS THE WATERUpon reaching the far edge of a pier, Damien was met with a narrow motorboat, bobbing lazily against the dock posts. The hull was scratched at the side, its edges worn out from constant use. Its paint had begun to peel, leaving thin strips along the body of the boat. A single rope anchored the boat loosely to a rusted metal ring etched into the wooden pier. A man sat within, one boot placed against the side as he turned the ticking engine off. He stepped toward the pier, the smoke from the cigarette dangling from his lips curling upward into the cold morning air. His eyes traveled to the two as they approached the boat. Clenching his cigarette between his teeth, he looked Damien over slowly, noting his tailored coat, polished shoes and clean features. Then his gaze dropped to the expensive watch on his wrist catching the early sunlight. “Boss," the driver muttered as he glanced at Brooks. “Who's the rich-looking boy?" “Show some respect, Boyd," Brooks answered
CHAPTER 74: HE'S REPORTED DEAD
HE'S REPORTED DEADThe cold morning wind sweet over the sea in sharp gusts, tugging restlessly at jackets and coats, sending harsh whispers against stacked containers. But Damien wasn't feeling it anymore. The sound had dulled to a ringing backdrop as a faint recognition of the man before him slowly began to set in.“I’m sorry,” Damien said evenly, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Have we met?”Brooks’ expression didn’t shift. “Brooks… Brooks Jackman,” he answered, extending nothing but his name. “I manage operations around here.”Boots placed firmly against the cold concrete, he stood up straight and stared at the man who had called his name. He'd stopped a few feet away, staring at him with an assessing gaze. Damien's fist tightened as Ryan's recording played back in his mind. This voice was unmistakably there, though it sounded muffled against the roars of the backwaters. And his name echoed repeatedly in his thoughts like a broken recorder. Brooks Jackman–right-hand man to the bigg
CHAPTER 73: BEFORE THE NAME WAS SPOKEN
BEFORE THE NAME WAS SPOKENThe room was dimly lit, its narrow walls lined with heavy wooden shelves stacked with almost everything–ledgers, liquor bottles, empty jars and sealed boxes. A single bulb hung from the blackened ceiling, casting a tired yellow glow over the dust floating in the air. The metal chair at the center creaked under Brooks' weight as he moved to the side. A bruise darkened the side of his face, highlighting slightly the swelling beneath his eyes. His lower lip was split at the corner, dried blood crusted over the cut. His shirt had been changed now, dotted with sweat and a few bloodstains. His jaw tightened, knuckles scraped raw as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. A wave of pain constantly crashed through his head–the painkillers were no help. A nurse stood before him, dabbing antiseptic onto a cotton pad. “Just hold still, please," she muttered as gently as she could. “I'll have to clean the bruise and–”She reached for Brooks' face but he quickly
CHAPTER 72: ERASED FROM THE PIER
ERASED FROM THE PIERThe city had barely woken up when Damien pulled out of the hotel's parking lot. The morning sun had just peeked over the high-rise buildings, its warm blue hue bleeding over the horizon and washing over the glass panes in muted color. The streets were thankfully still thin with traffic, just the delivery vans and the occasional commuter driving through intersections. Damien took in a deep breath and exhaled sharply as his hands rested steady on the steering wheel. His posture was calm, but his mind was a chaos of thoughts. Ryan. The muted voices. The gunshots following. And then silence. His phone buzzed softly in the cup holder, the sharp sound cutting through his thoughts. His eyes drop down briefly at the name dancing on the screen. Commissioner Jim. The call cut just before he could answer and a message preview immediately followed after, glowing across the display. ‘We need to talk. It's urgent.’Damien's jaw tightened. Was it about the recording he'd
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