"Son of a bitch," Brant said, slamming his car door and running after Kate. Was she stupid? He couldn't have her running around like an idiot. Someone could easily pick her up, and he'd never find her again.
And she said she was good at keeping her cool. Clearly not!
He ran harder. "KATE!"
He skidded to a halt when he saw Kip leering at her and holding her at gunpoint. He pulled out his gun on instinct.
"Back off," he warned.
"You wanna tell me why your little hussy is running around calling after one of my girls?" Kip asked, sliding his eyes over to Brant now.
"How should I know?" Brant retorted. A girl came from the shadows then, and he noticed that Kate's face fell hard. It obviously wasn't who she thought it was.
"You know her?" Kip asked the girl, who shook her head.
"Nope."
"It was a mistake..." Kate tried, and Kip backhanded her hard with his gun, making her cry out and Brant step forward angrily.
"Don't you ever backtalk to me again," Kip hissed. "Got it, bitch?"
Kate just nodded, tears forming in her eyes either from the hit or from emotions or both. Brant moved to stand next to her now.
"What did I tell you about touching her?" he asked Kip.
"Keep her in line then," Kip shot back. He called Brant some names under his breath before catching the girl by her arm and hauling her off. Kate started to full out cry as soon as they were gone.
"What the hell, Kate?" Brant demanded, and she shook her head again. She was bleeding at her temple, and he reached to see how bad it was.
"Don't," she snapped, smacking his hand off.
"Fine," he growled. "But don't say I didn't care." He holstered his gun and started back to the car. "Come on."
When they got there, Brant rooted around for a rag, which he found stuffed in the pocket behind his seat. He held it out to her, and she took it gingerly, pressing it against her head to slow the bleeding. It wasn't deep enough to warrant stitches, but it was enough to look awful. She was giving him a look as if to dare him to say something about it. He wanted to tell her he wasn't mad at her, just worried about/scared of possibly losing her, but he didn't know if she'd believe him. He started the car and drove them away, and she turned to look at the road. Brant was trying to think of what to even say in general when she beat him to it.
"I was so sure it was her."
"I'm sorry."
"What if I never find her, Brant?" she asked, and he looked at her.
"Let's not go there just yet." He gave a tight smile, and she nodded back. When he got to his destination, he parked and got out. She stayed. He sauntered into the post office, scanning his surroundings as he went. Nothing indicated he was being watched, so he proceeded. He accessed his box and pulled out the envelope of money for Norman. He'd collect again later in the week. He knew Nash was wanting him to hurry this along so as not to spend all money they saved for this type of stuff. He was doing his best.
"My earnings?" Kate asked when he returned.
"Yea."
"I must be good," she commented, noting the size of the envelope. "For barely a day's work."
"It's for more than just that."
"Sure," she said with a smirk. He took them back to his apartment then, and she went to clean up. He casually glanced up when she returned, dressed in jeans and a hoodie and with a little bandage over her cut.
"You know you can't let them see how good I treat you," he commented.
"I know."
"Tell me about Delia," he said, sensing she was still feeling angst about it. She sat down on the couch, pushing her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie. She pursed her lips and moved them side to side for a moment, thinking. Brant was about to say never mind when she spoke.
"She was always up to something, you know?" Kate said with a small laugh. "We'd catch her coaxing the neighbor boy into climbing a tree to look into a bird's nest, trying to back the car down the driveway when she couldn't even see over the steering wheel, or pulling pranks on Leon...my brother."
Brant moved to sit in the chair across from her, folding his hands and resting his elbows on his knees.
"She stuck up for kids at school...came home with a black eye once," Kate said, smiling a little and shaking her head. "She loved Christmas. She loved believing in ghosts. She loved scaring the shit out of you when you least expected it..." Kate trailed off now, her lip quivering slightly.
"She sounds like a good kid," Brant said.
"I don't understand how she got wrapped up in this," Kate whispered. "She was smart. She knew there were predators out there. I just...I don't get it. She wouldn't willingly do this."
"You said it yourself: She sticks up for people. Maybe she thought she could help someone and ended up getting sucked in during the process," Brant suggested. He watched her calculate this idea in her mind.
"I'd love to say that's what happened," she said after a moment. "But I'm not sure. She'd been hanging around this boy lately, and he was twisting her up, you know? It wasn't right, but she wouldn't listen to Leon or her mother. Definitely not me. Then she disappeared."
"Her parents divorced?"
"Leon had a fling with someone, and Delia came out of it, but they didn't stay together. I'm not a fan of her mother. She's absent most of the time or really harsh. Leon did the best he could...even tried for full custody once when Delia was younger, which fell flat. Then she got older and was living mainly with him around the time she vanished."
"How old is she?"
"Sixteen," Kate answered quietly. Brant felt chills, knowing what Kate was thinking because he was thinking it too. Delia would be scarred forever by this. She would be scarred at any age.
"We'll find her," he promised, because he was unable to not make that promise. She met his eyes, a glimmer of hope in hers now. He gave a small smile and a curt nod, and she bowed her head and hid her tears in response. He left to give her a moment, calling Nash to tell him Delia's full name and update him. He left out that Kate was the girl's aunt.
"I'll do my best," Porter said after Brant was done. "We might never find her, Brant."
"Don't say that."
"It's a big city...she's a young girl. We might already be too late."
"Do you think I want your pessimism right now?" Brant challenged.
"I'm being realistic."
"Well, stop it," Brant ordered. Then he hung up on Nash before he could say anything else. He tucked his phone away and pressed his fingers against his face.
He had a big job ahead of him.
...
Kate had been so sure the girl she'd seen earlier was Delia. She was beginning to think someone had hidden Delia away to ensure Kate wouldn't see her. She mentally cursed herself for calling out Delia's name. That alerted everyone that Kate was looking for her, and that might cause someone to delve deeper into Kate and discover the connection. She should have known better, but it was too late now.
Her head was pounding where she'd been struck. She hated that she'd cried. She just wanted all of this to be over so she could go home with her niece.
"Come on," Brant said now, returning from his phone call. "We gotta go do some shakedowns."
"What?"
"Norman likes to get his druggies to pay up, you know," Brant said, pulling his black leather jacket on. Kate swallowed. She wasn't sure if she could stomach seeing this.
"I have to go?"
"I'd rather you be with me than sitting here for someone to find and ask why you're not with me," Brant reasoned. Kate understood, but she hated that she had to change out of her comfortable clothes. He waited for her while she put on the appropriate attire for her character. She pulled out the makeup he'd got her too and made her eyes smoky and very unlike her. She surveyed herself in the mirror and felt chills at how much she looked the part.
"This is going to be over soon, right?" she asked, rejoining Brant now. She wondered if he was having any reaction to her looking like this, but he seemed to be unfazed.
"As soon as I can get it done," he advised. "Let's go."
Kate was quiet on the drive. Her head was still throbbing as she rested her fingers against her temple, leaning her elbow on the car door. She wondered if Leon was worried about her. Their last conversation had ended with him yelling at her that she wasn't doing enough. She knew he was angry and scared, but his words had still cut her. She'd put herself at great risk to find Delia...still was. Her brother had no idea what she'd done to get here.
When Brant parked, Kate felt a bit of nausea at the thought of what he was going to be doing. She knew he was undercover and this wasn't his persona, but she still dreaded it. She followed behind him, her hands stuffed as far into her jacket as she could get them. Her legs were already freezing cold along with any other part of her that was indecently exposed. Thankfully, they went through a back door into a restaurant where it was warm. Kate hung back when she saw Brant zero in on his target.
"No, wait," the guy begged as Brant approached him.
"Time's up," Brant said, his voice menacing.
"I'll have it tomorrow, I swear!"
"Tomorrow is not today," Brant advised, gripping the man's shoulder tightly. Everyone else had scattered by this point. Kate had to look away.
"Please...I had to remortgage my house. The money hasn't come yet, but it'll be here tomorrow," the guy went on. He yelped when Brant shoved him against the wall.
"You've had a week to get it together," Brant stated. "Today's the deadline, Benny. Now, or I pay a visit to your family."
"Okay, okay, okay," the man sobbed. "W-wait here." Brant let him go, and the man rushed off. Kate watched as Brant kept his composure, but she could see he was not happy doing this. He caught her stare, and she made a sympathetic face back at him. He half lifted a shoulder in recognition and turned back to face the man as he rushed towards him.
"Here," he said, thrusting a paper bag into Brant's hands. "It's all of it."
"Thank you, Benny. Pleasure doing business with you," Brant replied, tucking it under his coat as he turned to walk away. Benny looked at Kate, and she could see that he had just stolen that money from this restaurant to get Brant off his back. She felt sad at the desperation of this man and the monster of addiction he was hooked to. His face and body showed that.
"Let's go," Brant said to her curtly as he passed her. She turned and followed, making herself not look back to see if Benny was falling apart or not.
...
Brant really hated shakedowns. Every time it made him feel like the world's biggest asshole. He knew Benny had taken the money from his place of work. He hoped that it would get reimbursed tomorrow when he did have the money...if he actually did get it. Brant knew that people lied in order to give themselves a little more time.
"That was disturbing," Kate said next to him as he drove to his next address.
"Yea, tell me about it," he muttered, cranking the wheel and going down an alley. He saw Kate searching the faces of the women standing there waiting for a job. She didn't show any recognition to any of them.
"You do this every day?" she asked.
"Often," he confirmed.
"What else do you do for Norman?"
"I deliver cars. Sometimes I'm a bodyguard."
"Do you have to socialize with the other guys he's employed?"
"I'm a loner and everyone knows it," Brant answered. "Always have been anyway."
"Hmm."
He stopped and got out, finding his next target in a mechanic's garage on a creeper underneath a nice looking classic. Brant reached with his foot to lightly kick the man's boot, and the man slowly appeared a moment later.
"Ah," he said. "That time already."
"Yea, Jared. It is."
Jared heaved a sigh and sat up. He got to his feet and sauntered over to his workbench, reaching to pull his pants up as he went. He gave Kate a onceover and a wink, which made her move closer to Brant.
"New girlfriend?" Jared asked, sniggering a little.
"The money, Jared. Thank you," Brant said firmly. Jared wiped his hands with a rag and turned to look at him.
"Don't got it."
"We both know that's a lie."
"You tell your supplier that I got a bad batch. It didn't hardly do the trick. I think I should get a discount."
"Not our problem."
"I'm not paying you anything."
Brant sighed and walked slowly until he was off to the side of Jared, who was watching him warily. Kate let out a shriek when Brant moved fast, grabbing Jared and shoving him onto the table and reaching to drop the hanging engine onto his head.
"Brant!" Kate shouted as he caught the chain and held it firm.
"You wanna test me?" Brant asked, the engine hovering over Jared's face.
"Do it," Jared urged.
"Maybe I should. Or maybe," Brant said, noticing the photo on the desk now. "Maybe I should go visit your wife. What do you think?"
Jared struggled but couldn't get free. Brant worked hard to keep his undercover persona in play here. He could tell Kate was having a hard time with it.
"In the drawer," Jared said, muffled.
"Where?"
"Desk."
"Go get it," Brant said to Kate, who moved quickly. She pulled out all the drawers, finding the stack of bills in the middle one. She came back with it, holding it up to be seen. Brant pulled up the engine and released Jared, who started to shake and choke.
"Thanks, mate," Brant said, patting his upper back and reaching to take the money from Kate. "See you soon."
"I'm done," Jared said weakly. "No more."
"You say that every time, Jared," Brant pointed out, not looking back. Back in the car, Kate gave him a hard look.
"Was that necessary?" she demanded.
"He made it harder than it needed to be."
"You didn't have to threaten his wife."
"Kate, it's what I'm supposed to do," Brant said, his voice a bit hard now. "I have to do it, you understand? I don't want to, and I don't like it, but I have to. I'm sorry it's uncomfortable for you to watch, but be grateful you don't have to do it." She stopped talking then, and he cranked the car to life before heading to the next person.
Kate didn't make a sound for the next three people he visited. At least they weren't as hard to get money from. Most of them were his regulars. One was a new person, and he'd looked expensive and important. Brant felt saddened by the people whose lives were ruined because of drugs. He didn't know how to help them, and he knew they needed to want the help first. He didn't like that Norman used people's weakness and desperation against them.
He hated that Kate wasn't talking to him now. He could tell she wasn't happy with his methods, but this wasn't who he was. She had to know that.
They got to their last place, and he shut off the engine after parking and released a sigh. This woman was always hard to shakedown. It both angered him and broke his heart to see her toddler in the background. He walked inside the apartment building with Kate behind him. He heard her inhale sharply when the woman answered the door, her toddler on her hip.
"Carrie," he said. "You got something for me?"
"Not today," she declared.
"Carrie, we've gone over this," Brant said. "A deadline is a deadline." He expected her to burst into tears as usual, to use her son to barter for more time. He expected her to beg and plead.
He did not expect to get a pistol aimed at his head.
"Whoa," Kate said.
"Back off," Carrie hissed. "I'm not paying today. So clear off or else I give you a new hole in your head."
"Carrie," Brant said calmly. "I can clearly see it is not loaded." It was a shot in the dark since he couldn't quite see if he was right, but he knew Carrie. She was not a violent person. He watched her hand shake and the fear in her eyes as she comprehended that he'd caught her out—had guessed right. The gig was up. He really wished she hadn't done it in front of her child, though, whose eyes were very wide right now.
"I don't have it," she said, her voice emotional.
"You never do, yet we always get it."
"I need you to just leave," she said loudly. Brant smacked the gun out of his face and pushed her inside now. He didn't like to do this, but he didn't want a scene out in the hall either. The toddler started to cry, which didn't help. She put him down, which made him howl even louder.
"Carrie, the safe," he said. This was where she'd gotten money before, and he knew she had some there now.
"No," she said firmly.
"Now." He turned to head there, determined to just take the damn thing and open it later if he had to.
"No!"
"Brant!" Kate shrieked, and he turned just in time for the knife blade to sink into his side.
