Shot in Love and Crime (DNF)

Chapter 72: Confrontation

Dream POV.

“Thanks again for all of your help Quackity,” I smiled, having taken off my mask so he could see how I was feeling. “We’re organising for a private room in one of the restaurants for dinner if you want to join us. It’s not the best thank you but still…”
“I’ll see if I have a free space on my schedule.” He smiled.

Both of us exchanged a final smile before he turned to leave, shutting the doors behind him, and I let out a thankful sigh. The two of us had been friends for years, and did a lot of favours both as friends and as business partners, but this was definitely the biggest. I mean, letting us take the two most expensive rooms in the hotel for free for who knows how long.

I turned and grabbed my suitcases and the briefcase which were sitting in the corner. With the two suitcases and the briefcase in my hands I went into the room that George hadn’t gone into and took a couple of minutes to put everything away.

There weren't many pieces of clothing and so I quickly put folded up shirts, pants, and hoodies on several of the shelves. Then I went into the office and hid the contents of the briefcase inside the safe, locking it securely afterwards and just to be safe, I hid the safe behind the foliage of a large potted plant in the corner so nobody would see it if they came snooping around.

Once I’d finished I knew that I needed to talk to George, which I wasn’t looking forward too. I took my time to walk the length of the main room from my door to his, and then took a couple of deep breaths before opening the door and stepping in.

The brunette was sitting on the bed, looking over a menu for room service, and occasionally flipping the page over so that he could see the list of activities. He lifted his gaze when I stepped in and immediately seemed worried. I didn’t want this to end up in some sort of shouting match and so I sighed before walking over to his bed.

“Do you like your room?” I asked, not wanting to start off with an interrogation as to why and how he had contacted the police.
“It’s nice.” He hummed. “Nicer than my old house, and nicer than the mansion. Cause here you get room service.”

I allowed myself to laugh, sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching what he was doing out of the corner of my eye. He seemed like he was on edge, and I sighed lightly before asking him the question. “Can you tell me how the police knew about what we were doing?” I made sure I spoke in a calm tone as I looked over at him.

The brunette hesitated as he thought of what to say, but he eventually sighed with tears welling up in his eyes. “You’ll be mad at me if I tell you.”
“I’ll be mad if I don’t know how as well,” I replied, instantly feeling agitated at the answer he had given me.

“It was at the casino,” he answered quickly. “When I went to the bathroom a cop followed me in there, he said something about how he knows a lot about you and he’s never seen you bring a guest, then he told me he knew who I was.” I listened to what he said, trying to think back to the night in the casino from over a month ago now.

Now that I think about it I could remember seeing somebody walking into the bathroom after George did with his crutches, and I had kept my eyes on the door after that. It wasn’t uncommon for the criminals at Quackity’s parties to target each other at times, picking one anothers pockets, getting into punches, in some extreme cases even worse than that.

I was planning on going into the bathroom and killing whoever was with George if he’d gotten hurt (or more hurts since at that point in time he was in crutches), but less than two minutes after the man entered the bathroom, George left. He looked just like he had a few minutes prior and so I never questioned it. “What did he do in the bathroom?” I asked firmly. “Did he give you a tracker? Did you tell him about the entrances around the house?”

“No, not that…” George responded. Once again there was a moment of silence. “He gave me a phone.”
“A phone!?” I responded, letting out some of my temper and standing up. The brunette shrunk back at my tone with a small whimper.

“I’m sorry,” he began muttering again, burying his head in his hands as I continued.
“How much did you tell him with the phone?” I questioned. George was beginning to cry as I glared down at him. “How much was it?”
“I don’t remember.” He muttered. “Just anything that I heard or found.”

“Shit,” I muttered. “Do you remember the police officer's name?” If George could tell me the name of the police officer, or the police officers then I could deal with them. However I grumbled slightly as George shook his head.

“For fucks sake.” I growled as I headed over to the door. “Now I’m going to call some of my men on the inside and get them to start nosing around to find out who knows what. As if this day couldn’t get any fucking harder.” I ignored George’s sobbing as I stormed out of the room and slammed the door, heading over to my room as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

I dialled the number of one of my men working inside the police and explained the situation to him, not the complete story about George and him managing to get the phone, but a basic one where some police have been getting information from my phone. He told me he’d keep a look out, and then I hung up before calling another informant and repeating the process.

The process took about an hour, to contact all of my men and women on the inside and tell them to keep a look out for anyone who seemed to have any information on myself and my mafia. It served as a reminder of how many people I had working for me, and the fact that I had memorised all their names and numbers served as a reminder.

I finished the series of calls before looking at the time. It was just after 3pm. Karl, Sapnap, and Bad should all be here in the other large suite by now, and so I was planning on meeting them to discuss my course of action before heading down to one of the flasher restaurants downstairs.

But before I left, I wanted to go and check on George. I felt bad about how I reacted with the cops, since to be fair I probably would have done the same thing that he had done, if I was kidnapped too. So I took a deep breath before making the trek back over to the door of George’s room.

There was no answer, and so I carefully glanced inside to see him curled up, staring out a window. When he noticed me in the room he shuffled back slightly and I sighed, knowing that I had probably overreacted. “I’m going to see Sapnap, Bad, and Karl,” I told him, refusing to make eye contact out of guilt.

“You can order room service if you want, just don’t leave the suite at the moment, okay?” I asked, although not even getting a nod or a shake of the head as a response, which I guess I understood. “I’m sorry for how I acted,” I added, although I knew he probably wouldn’t care. “I understand why you’d do those things when you were kidnapped, and you aren’t in any trouble.”

I then continued. “I’ll be back to change for dinner in two hours if you want to join me then.” Once again, no response. So, without a word I turned and left, heading over to the door of the other suite and knocking on it. A moment later Bad opened the door, and I could overhear a conversation between Karl and Sapnap in one of the bedrooms.

For now, I tried to push the thoughts of George into the back of my mind so that I could try and keep my thoughts organised, but recent memories of how I acted towards the brunette made it difficult for me to do so.
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1503 words

Oh no, Dream is mad at George. How will this end?
Will George betray Dream and go to the cops again? Or hard-core make-up sex (or just real intense sex that makes George forget the cops, and the fact he hates Dream)?

Who knows?