Revealed (Book 4, the Redemption Series)

Prologue

Two muscle-bound men held the scrawny boy down in the chair, one at each shoulder. He struggled against them, but it was pointless. The boy was barely seventeen years old but could have passed for fourteen with his gangly limbs and smooth face. The larger of the two men, a Samoan as wide as he was tall, punched him in the ear. He stopped his thrashing as blood trickled down his chin and onto his designer t-shirt.

With the boy under control, Rick Stahl entered the room. An aluminum bat swung at his side. Sunlight reflected off its chrome finish, and the boy turned away from the glare. Rick took a few practice swings. The bat sliced through the air with a heavy whoosh. The boy nervously licked his lips but remained in his seat with the help of the goons behind him.

No stereo played in the luxurious penthouse in downtown Dallas, but Rick still swayed from side to side, dancing to music no one else could hear. He stopped in front of the chair, resting the bat on the plastic tarp that covered half the room. It was out of place with the expensive artwork on the walls and a terrace overlooking the city but necessary for the dramatic effect.

Rick brushed his long hair off the collar of his plush white robe. "Did you cause a scene at your high school today, Evan?"

Beads of sweat peppered the boy's forehead. "I don't know what you're talking about, Dick."

Dick was the name went Rick went by in his second life as a mid-level drug dealer. "Don't lie to me. And don't call me Dick. It's Mr. Longfellow to you."

"You were asked a question." The other goon, a large African American man, squeezed the boy's shoulder, causing him to wince.

"Umm . . . Mr. Longfellow, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't get into a fight. I swear."

The industrial-grade plastic crinkled as Dick tapped the floor with the tip of the bat. "Evan, I told you not to do that."

"What? I called you Mr. Longfellow."

"No. You lied. I didn't say anything about a fight."

Dick swung the bat one-handed. The blow landed on the side of Evan's knee. He screamed, clutching his leg as he hit the floor.

"You fucker!"

"Shut up, you little bitch!" Dick motioned for his men to step forward. "Leti! Ja'wan! Get him up."

The men grumbled but got Evan underneath his arms and flung him back in the chair with such force it nearly toppled over backward. Whimpers of pain escaped his clamped lips, but he remained in his seat. Evan cried, "Big deal. I lied. You didn't have to do that."

With his free hand, Dick smacked Evan across the face. "No. I hit you because you got into a fight in the school parking lot. And you drew attention to yourself, which will draw attention to me."

Fighting back the tears, Evan said, "I had to."

"You did?"

"Yes. He owed me four hundred dollars. If I couldn't get him to pay up, then everyone would try to screw me over."

"Evan, you're an intelligent guy. Aren't you going to Rice University in the fall?"

"That's correct."

"Then couldn't you find a non-violent solution to this problem?"

Evan massaged his knee. "Non-violent? You just hit me, you asshole."

"I'm a college dropout. I expect better from my employees. Why do you think I use guys like you?"

"Come on, man. I'll never do it again."