The Ganglord’s Girl

Devon Tyler has a sinking feeling in his gut.

He can't place it. Everything seems to be in order; his papers, the new spy they put in the Keller family. He even sent the fucking yearly postcard to his mother, but then again he never forgets to send that. And no, it has nothing to do with the apprentice sucking his cock under the desk. It's something else, a bad feeling he can't comprehend.

She pauses momentarily. "Does it feel good?"

"Sure," he responds. She looks at him funny, but finishes the job. He thinks that maybe he's being paranoid, maybe it's just the chilli he ate earlier. But the feeling fucking persists. He doesn't know what he's done wrong this time. He normally gets this feeling before he gets bad news, but he's trying not to think about it.

When she stands and offers to accompany him home tonight, he tells her he'll be busy. She's pretty. Dark hair, bright eyes, full lips. Just his type. But there's a lot on his mind, and he has a date with Antonia later. She doesn't have to know that, though. For all intents and purposes, he's single.

She shoves the piece of paper with her number scribbled on in his pocket and licks his earlobe. "In case you change your mind."

When his door flies open, minutes after the apprentice, Alicia or Alice, he can't remember, leaves, Sam Henry storms in with puffed cheeks and bulging eyes. He knows he was right all along. Something is wrong, he isn't just being paranoid. He's never 'just being paranoid', and he doesn't know if that's a good or a fucked up thing.

"Kane Fredrick is dead." He slams the newspaper on his desk. The words 'Man found dead in river' practically floats off the fucking page. He rubs his eyes. He was expecting this but he did have some hope in the beginning. The guy didn't even last a week, though. This task is becoming more burdensome by the month.

"At this rate, we're never going to catch those sons of bitches." Sam sits and runs a shaky hand down his sweaty face. Devon stares at the page for a beat longer and then opens the first drawer on his left. He needs a cigarette. He has to burn this awful news right out of his mouth.

"We'll get another one," he simply says as he lights a match. He misplaced his lighter again. He has to get a new one.

"Another one? They've killed the last four. What makes you think the board will approve?" Sam stabs at the headlines with his index finger. "We're calling it off. If they want to catch that Keller fuck, they can do it themselves. I don't care how much they're paying us for this! I'll talk to them tomorrow about it. This is out of our league."

"No fucking way. That last guy--what was his name?--got close. He slipped, that's all. We'll find someone more competent and get this job done. Our reputation will go to shit if we give up now." There's a lot at stake. Devon doesn't want to work beneath Sam for the rest of his life. He wants that fucking promotion, and he plans on getting it. "I don't want those fuckers to laugh at us. Be fucking optimistic for once."

"Yeah? And who do you have lined up for this job? They're all scared shitless. If you think anyone is willing to go on this suicide mission, you're out of your mind. I was optimistic a year ago but there's such a thing as being optimistic to a fault. I'm not going to stand by and watch good men die. It's over."

Not to him. Sam's being way too fucking negative. There's always something to be done. Granted, they're surrounded by cowards and the pay isn't that great but he'll find a solution. There's always something to be done. And Devon Tyler always has a plan.

He finishes his cigarette and looks at the headlines again. The last agents they sent were all men, maybe that's where the problem lies. Those apprentices he fucks are in no way capable of handling such a task, and besides, they know too much about the company. They'd give them away in a heartbeat if someone made a better offer. He has to send someone who's clueless about how the company runs, that way if they're ever interrogated, there'd be nothing to tell. He isn't sure Sam or anyone in the board will approve of it, but he has to give it a chance. And he knows just who to offer this job to. And he's 100% sure that she's going to take it. At this point, she would do anything. She's desperate enough.

"Why are you making that face?"

"I have an idea."

Sam scoffs. "Of course, you do."

"You're not going to like it."

"I never like any of your ideas."

Devon scratches the tattoo on his neck. It's the face of a bear. His father was killed by one on a hunting expedition when he was five. This tattoo represents his strength but also his weakness. It hurt like a bitch. "There's this girl I've known forever. I think she's the perfect candidate. And before you ask, no, she isn't a spy."

He tells Sam about his plan. It isn't perfect but it's getting there. Sam listens intently, not interrupting. By the time Devon tells him everything, he's shaking his head. "You're a dick, Tyler."

Devon sits back in his chair. "I want that goddamn promotion, what can I say?"

"You're willing to risk this girl's life for it? Look, I don't give a rat's ass about her. I don't even know her. All I'm wondering is why you would send her, especially after everything you've told me, when you know she will most probably get killed?"

Devon lights another cigarette. "She won't get killed."

"What makes you so sure, Einstein?"

He stares at the newspaper on his desk. He thinks of Amelia's face, smiling at him from her bedroom window. She was just a fucking kid when he first saw her, and she was a kid when he left, but she's not a kid anymore. Her brother Aaron was his best friend in school but that was before he got involved with the wrong crowd. After he left home, he didn't talk to her again. Last he heard, she was working at Donnie's. She has a profile on I*******m but she'll have to delete it soon. Nothing much, a few shit quality pictures taken years ago. She's a trustworthy girl, decent, not at all like the apprentices surrounding him who suck his dick in hopes of getting the job. They never do, by the way. They're just not trustworthy.

No, her likelihood of being discovered is slim. She's just so goddamn decent. They'll never doubt her, not after they get to know her. Plus she's smart, so she'll get the information quickly. She'll be in and out in a flash, and there'll be nothing to worry about. And as a bonus, he'll get Aaron out of jail for her. She won't say no. And he trusts her to get the job done even though she's in no way qualified for it.

Amelia George is his best option.

"I just know."

Sam stands and clears his throat. "I'll talk to the board but you should know that if she dies, we'll take no responsibility for it. You're on your own."

"I'll have to go home for a few days." He hasn't been there in years. Ever since he left when he was 18, to be more specific. His mother will be overjoyed, that's a fact, plus he'll have to speak with Amelia personally, lay it all down on the table. He's confident that she'll agree to it all. His offer is hard to resist.

"That won't be a concern. I'll see you then." Sam heads for the door, but then turns back around with a raised brow. "You know, you'll be sending her to hell. As a woman, she's much more vulnerable. I hope you know what you're doing, Tyler."

Devon finishes his cigarette. He crushes the butt against the smooth surface of his desk. "I know."