Monsters by Matt Rogers (bill gates books to read TXT) 📕

names, but that was no surprise.

Professional fighters, Slater thought. Something he’d said to Alexis came back to him.

‘You don’t beat someone to death unless you’re sending a message.’

He said, ‘Huh,’ out loud. At first he wrote it off, but the more he thought about it, the more his suspicions grew. There couldn’t be many high-calibre gyms willing to stoop so low, if any. Just because Frankie was in SF didn’t mean Dwayne Griggs hadn’t sought him out based on reputation alone, hired him for the messiest jobs that needed the clearest messages.

Either it was an insane coincidence, or all the monsters really did know each other.

Like some dark premonition, his phone rang.

Jason King.

16

The Dodge RAM’s cabin was a capsule of silence before King dialled.

He tried to convince himself it was an ordinary check-in. It didn’t work. The hunch he’d got that morning at the Dunfields’ was different, just like the shrilling of the outgoing ringtone was different. Something activated, awakened. He’d come out to the car to make this call for a reason. He thought it might go a particular way, a way he didn’t want Violetta overhearing yet.

His rational mind told him there’d be no update. Slater was still recovering from Mexico, after all. But a deeper crevasse of the mind said otherwise. The instincts that rested in that crevasse were usually right.

Slater answered with, ‘My man.’

King said, ‘Thought I’d check how the shoulder’s progressing.’

A quiet pause. ‘Any reason for that?’

‘The fact I care about you?’

‘Touching. Truly. But you know what I mean.’

King did. He also knew he’d deflected with sarcasm. ‘I wondered if you maybe needed help with that list.’

A quieter, longer pause.

King said, ‘Slater?’

‘Are you keeping tabs on me or something?’

‘You’re more tech-savvy than I’ll ever be. You really think I’m tracking you?’

‘It’s just an awful coincidence.’

King didn’t know what Slater meant, but he already knew the instincts in the crevasse, as usual, were spot on. ‘And why would that be?’

‘I came back to the list today. I found out, minutes before you called, that one of the guys is in San Francisco. Frankie Booth. He’s an MMA coach. Runs a gym out of Hunters Point, trains some budding professionals.’

‘Why’d you precede that with the fact he’s in California?’

‘Alexis is flying there today for a job.’

‘A job?’

‘Maybe not the right way to put it.’ He filled King in on the morning’s proceedings, everything he knew.

When he finished, King said, ‘So that’s why you sounded relieved.’

‘Relieved?’

‘You were looking for a way to justify going.’

‘Maybe,’ Slater admitted. ‘And now we have it.’

‘Where are the rest of the men on the list?’

‘All here in Boston.’

‘Then isn’t that a better place to start?’

‘King.’

One word said it all. It said, I understand what you’re trying to argue, and you’re right. But I’m going anyway.

‘Sure,’ King said. ‘I’ll tag along.’

‘What’ll Violetta think about that?’

‘She’ll be fine. It’s gorgeous California. Not Mexico.’

‘Surely you’re not being—’

‘Of course I’m not being serious. There’s scumbags in every corner of the world. She knows that as well as we do.’

‘And she’s fine with it?’

‘She will be. She knows who I am.’

‘How’s Junior doing?’

‘Healthy. Happy. He’s obsessed with his feet. I think he’s just discovered they exist. He keeps grabbing at them…you know, staring in amazement.’

‘Babies are weird.’

‘Yeah. You skipped this part. On that note, what are you doing? Just leaving Tyrell on his own?’

‘He’s thirteen. He can handle himself for a few days, make his own meals.’

‘What about the house parties? You’ll get back and the whole place’ll be trashed.’

‘I don’t even have to say anything about that. He knows not to take that chance.’

‘You don’t seem like the type to discipline your kid. As strange as that sounds.’

‘I’m not,’ Slater said. ‘I lead by example.’

‘You must’ve told an old story or two. About the womanising days.’

‘It’s come up occasionally, in a roundabout way. I’m not going to pretend I never enjoyed the hedonistic side of life.’

‘So if he chooses to?’

‘Then that’s his business. I only care that he stays on track generally. And even that won’t appeal to him if I’m too forceful about it. When did we ever want to do what our parents told us as teenagers?’

King hesitated. ‘You went through that? I thought you told me your parents...’

Slater said, ‘Well, not my parents. They were out of the picture by then. But there’s that general sense of authority everywhere. Foster homes, care facilities, juvenile prison. You want to do exactly what they tell you not to.’

‘So if Tyrell says, “I’m thinking of throwing a party while you’re gone.”’

‘He wouldn’t.’

‘Humour me. What would you do? I’m conducting research for the future, in case you didn’t know. Junior’ll be a teenager one day.’

Slater had to pause. ‘I don’t know what I’d do. But we’d figure it out.’

King said, ‘I’m going to tell him to throw a party. I need the answer to this.’

Slater couldn’t hold back the laugh. ‘Then he’d be taking after his…’ He trailed off.

‘Dad,’ King said. ‘You’re his dad. You can say it.’

‘Doesn’t feel right. Not yet.’

‘It will.’

‘I hope.’

‘I’ve got to go tell Violetta I’m going to San Francisco.’

‘At least there’s a silver lining.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘You can take a few selfies for Alice Dunfield. Helps the cover story.’

King laughed.

Slater said, ‘You go tell Violetta. And I’ll sell it to Alexis.’

‘She won’t believe you.’

‘That Frankie Booth is in San Francisco?’

‘That you’re going solely for Frankie and not to keep an eye on her.’

Slater said, ‘I know.’

‘And she’d be right in that assumption.’

‘Yeah. I know.’

‘You going to do this forever? Or are you going to get her to stop trying to be you?’

Slater thought about snapping at that but decided better. After a pause to calm himself down, he said, ‘This is who she is. If it wasn’t, she never would have chosen to be with me. She hasn’t been forced into any of this. Who am I to stop her trying to help people? I’ve taught her to fight. Taught her to kill.’

‘So then why are you following her there?’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are.’

Slater sighed.