Monsters Matt Rogers (books to read for 13 year olds .txt) 📖

said, ‘You can’t intimidate everyone into silence. It might’ve worked with all your employees, but I don’t care about you or who you claim to be. You’re a fake-gangster masquerading as a mafia don. You don’t know shit about this world and you clearly don’t know shit about business.’

Heidi mock-shivered. ‘All that bravado. I get what you’re trying to do. You don’t think I’ve heard every insult under the sun? Unqualified, inexperienced, spineless, impostor, dumb rogue bitch. All in a day’s work. Stop trying to belittle me and get to the point. Because right now you’re flopping around like a fish out of water.’

Alexis said, ‘You’re going to turn yourself in for the murder of Jack Sundström.’

No pause. ‘You’re still flopping.’

‘Try me.’

‘I will.’ Heidi inched forward again. ‘If you wanted me in jail you would’ve leaked everything already. But you know what I’m capable of. You want me walking into the station of my own accord. Which means you need something from me, which means I still have power. Because if I force your hand, and Mary’s confession hits journalists’ inboxes, you know I’ll find out about it before it makes headlines. They need time to write their stories. They need time to clear it with their editors. That’s all time I’ll spend knowing it’s the end of the road. And under all your bravado—’ she leant all the way over the desk and lowered her voice to a whisper ‘—you’re terrified of what I might do.’

‘Blow up with anger?’ Alexis said. ‘Send an army of hitmen out of spite? For what?’

‘Precisely,’ Heidi hissed. ‘“For what?” Because I can. And that’s the most dangerous thing. You know this company is my lifeblood, my whole existence, and if I’m aware that the clock’s ticking before the doors are shut, the game’s up. These puppets on the board gave me hundreds of millions of dollars to spin a fairytale. I can do a lot with that money before I see handcuffs. And you know that. So I’m afraid we’re at a stalemate.’

Alexis said, ‘I’ll leak it.’

‘You already would have.’

Quiet.

Bone-chilling quiet.

Alexis said, ‘I’ll kill you.’

‘Here? In front of twenty witnesses?’

Alexis stood up. ‘If your men so much as lay a finger on Mary…’

‘You won’t do anything,’ Heidi said. ‘You’ll come for me, sure, but brass knuckles won’t quite cut it against my protection. Don’t try to threaten me into inaction because both of us know that’s a waste of time. We’ll keep up appearances and look for openings, you and I both. I’ll do anything I want. So will you. But you won’t leak anything, not to the media or the police, because I have moles in law enforcement and the newspapers and I’ll know about the arrest warrant before it’s signed. Then there’ll be a host of dead innocents and blood on your hands, because you knew you could’ve prevented it.’ A pause. ‘You’re some sort of vigilante. I get it. But it’s stifling your options, and you’ll lose. I don’t have a morsel of common decency in my body. You’ll see where that gets you…’

Alexis walked out.

Over her shoulder she heard, ‘You came to the wrong arena.’

30

Slater spotted King heading for the young man meditating in the corner and gave them a wide berth.

Figured they’d both need privacy, knowing the truths King was capable of extracting from people. He made for the front of house, where an unblinking Frankie Booth hovered in front of the reception desk, muttering something to the guy behind it. When he saw Slater he stepped forward with that overconfident breach of personal space that insecure tough-guys think is a demonstration of their courage. They fail to recognise in their teens, when most men do, that all of life isn’t a dick-swinging contest.

True to form, Booth half-smiled like he wasn’t aware that he was all the way up in Slater’s face. ‘Game’s up, pal. You gotta give me your real name. Or whichever name you fought under. I wanna see your record.’

Slater didn’t raise or lower his voice, not even slightly. He kept the same neutral monotonic expression. ‘I already told you. Neither of us have fought professionally.’

‘Then why aren’t you at the big athlete-factory gyms? Why haven’t American Top Team snatched you up? You should be training UFC champions, the way you hit the bag.’

Slater wondered if he’d misjudged the man. It took some spine to admit you were inferior to a coach who’d decided on a whim to show up and train fighters. Maybe the false confidence was actually excitement at the prospect of acquiring the new pair permanently.

Or, more likely, he had them in mind for…extracurricular activities.

Slater said, ‘I like San Francisco. I don’t particularly want to move. As far as I’m aware, Jason is the same.’

Something washed over Booth’s face, a vague realisation. He took a step back. ‘Money wouldn’t sway you out that way? American Top Team I’d understand. Florida’s a long way from here. But there’s American Kickboxing Academy in San Jose. You’d be training high-level pros within days. I’m sure of it.’

Slater could sense the newfound hesitation. If money wasn’t a factor, then how would Booth ever convince them to tag along for the stuff that really paid the bills?

Slater figured he’d make it easier. ‘I don’t want the…attention that would come from a position like that. The bright lights aren’t for me.’

Booth hesitated. ‘Any reason for that?’

Slater stared at him. ‘Yes.’

No elaboration.

Not here.

Booth chewed his lower lip and panned his stare around the room. Eventually he had no choice but to bring it back to Slater. He simply ran out of places to look. ‘Why don’t you and your friend come back here after closing time?’

‘Why?’

Booth said nothing.

No elaboration either.

Slater wasn’t one to cave to social pressure, though, so he let the question hang there for an uncomfortable length of time. No one came to save Frankie. Finally he rolled his eyes and said, ‘Just be here. It’ll be worth your while. Don’t be uncooperative. It’s not in