Clay's Unwanted Blondie

Chapter 49

♥⁠╣CLAY╠⁠♥

THE SCENE looked like one of them spy thriller films with a wounded spy trying to decode why his partners were slain.

In this scenario, Clay stood with a black coat in the night as rain poured over the streets of Jersey.

And it didn't just pour, no the rain permeated to his skin all the way down to the turmoil that flogged his body since that damn letter landed in his hands.

Half an hour, maybe more? Chase's Rover came gliding down the dark road stopping right in front of him.

"I knew the situation was bad but this...buddy you look fucking awful", Chase said, spotting a pea coat, a Rolex watch around his wrist and if anything the Brioni suit he was in was indication just why a man like him would tell Clay he looked 'awful'.

The Clay Cervantes from three years ago didn't look like a hobo wearing faded blue jeans, a ten dollar shirt underneath and a jacket that looked like it was strewn right from the dumpster.

"You check into it?" Clay asked.

The tension in Chase's spritzed patchouli car went up a notch.

"It's been three fucking years and you are still the same fucker hung up on this shit instead of shit that matters"

Shit that mattered? What mattered after he lost everything?

What could have mattered?

"Did you look into it?"

Scoffing, patient and mute as a sphinx, it took a whole two minutes before Chase Cervantes reacted.

Three years gone and Chase was still the same infuriatingly mad man he knew.

That quality among others was the reason Clay chose Chase to keep him out of the radar, to keep him invisible.

Chase might have been family but he was the sort of man who'd take secrets to the grave if need be.

Chase moved after a few milliseconds charging to the center console and flicking it only to rummage through a few papers before he handed them to Clay.

"She cut all ties with Ashton Drakkon too. Apparently you two fuckers messed her up, she didn't want any of you in her life.

You look closely enough and you'll see Ashton hasn't moved an inch near her since he went to NewYork.

Next page, surprise surprise Drakkon's married to some blonde, Tiffany Pankow. Down there, they are both expecting a kid this year—"

"What you are trying to say is—"

"Ashton Drakkon's not our man. He's not the stalker but we might have some loose cannon hovering over your ex. My question to you Clay, Vega-whatever shitty name you call yourself- how are you handling this?"

Ex?

It sounded so foreign to him. Her being not his. Her possibly in the arms of a man who was deranged. Her loving another man.

God, that pain that he tried mobilizing with street fights, black eyes, torn lips, busted hernias...it came back now. Fierce, roaring, tearing him apart.

"You have the means and resources to eliminate the guy", his voice sounded like sand. Bland, gritty and unlike him.

Chase turned to him with a low smirk. The same smirk his father, Kevin Cervantes, had when he was up to no good.

"With my line of work, killing the bastard is a fucking walk in the park. But... and I can't believe I'm saying this I'm married now, see and my wife isn't that much into blood.