In the Blood [ON HOLD]

"Teaching a Lesson"

Remi paced along the length of the same table he had negotiated with Veronica at. Which reminded him...

"Have you heard anything from the Italians?" he asked Leon, who had been watching Remi prowl back and forth like a tiger in a cage. 

"They bought a couple lots, but have yet to break ground." Leon propped his feet up on the table. "I think they're just waiting on the permits before construction can get going."

Remi nodded, making another pass along the length of the table. He looked at his watch. They'd been here for nearly forty-five minutes. What could be taking Moira so long? He was eager to get this done with.

"How hard would it be to make sure Larry's crew is the one Veronica hires?" Remi asked, looking up when a pigeon cooed and fluttered through the rafters overhead. 

"Considering he runs your construction company, probably not very high?" Leon said, voice bored. He picked an invisible piece of lint from his suit and shrugged. "I'll see what I can do to make the best bid."

Remi smiled wryly, his fingers tapping at the top of his thigh. The idea of charging Veronica over something that was already slated to make him money was ridiculously appealing.

They both looked toward the propped open door when there was a crunch of tires on gravel. Remi glanced at Leon. "I don't suppose you have an extra shirt in your car?"

"Don't I always?" Leon gave him an affronted look. Remi smiled, taking off his jacket, then the vest. He took a moment to sweep the dust off the table before folding them neatly and placing them on the edge.

They could hear Moira by now. Remi undid his tie and rolled up his sleeves.

"You have stitches," Leon reminded him just as a man appeared in the doorway. They squinted against the sun backlighting him.

Then there was a muffled thud and a huff of pained breath, and the man was flying into the room. Moira came storming in behind him. Her usually neat braid was a mess, and there was a bruise blooming around her right eye, along with a split lip.

She let out a snarl like a pissed lion and pounced on the man still lying on the floor. Remi grinned when she grabbed his collar and proceeded to smash his teeth in. He strolled across the concrete floor to a spot in almost the exact center of the warehouse floor, watching Moira work.

What a delightfully vicious little beast she was. No wonder those dogs cowed to her.

"Moira," he said, finally tugging on her leash when blood sprayed from the man's mouth. She looked up at him, her teeth bared in a feral mask. He tapped the back of a chair in the middle of the warehouse floor.

She stood up, drawing a gun. The small click of the hammer being thumbed back made the pimp peer up. She flicked the muzzle slightly, gesturing for him to get up.

To his credit, he just spit a mouthful of blood that landed dangerously close to what Remi knew was a new pair of boots. Slowly, spewing a stream of nasty curses, the pimp got to his feet and glared at Moira.

Remi walked up behind him on silent feet, waiting.

"Fucking cunt," he snarled before turning around.

Remi was already swinging. His left wasn't as powerful as his right, but it did the job, smashing into the pimp's jaw, spinning him back to the floor. Ignoring the twinge in his side, Remi bent and fisted his hands in the man's collar, hauling him to his feet before tossing him into the chair.

It wobbled precariously, making him splay his arms, flailing to keep his balance.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you how to speak to women?" he asked blandly.