Chapter 4 : A New Source

As Daniel took off his shirt, I smiled. His naked torso looked exactly as I pictured it. He had a delicious six-pack that I couldn’t wait to touch. Daniel crawled on the bed with a sinful smile on his face. Once he was laying next to me, he gently cradled my face and leaned down to kiss me. This one was sweeter and softer than our first kiss.

He adjusted himself so that he was on top of me and pressing his hard cock against my thigh, dangerously close to where I needed him the most.

“I’m going to make you feel so good tonight, baby,” Daniel whispered into my ear, his facial hair tickling my skin.

His dark brown eyes stared into mine as his fingers slowly descended my body. Daniel traced the line of my panties. All I wanted him to do was thrust his fingers into me. My pussy was throbbing for him. I needed to have this aching need satisfied or I thought I was going to explode. Instead, he kept tracing around where I needed him most, like my inner thigh and my stomach. It was driving me mad.

“Daniel, please,” I begged, not caring how desperate my voice sounded.

He smirked down at me. “Please what?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Finger me!”

He let out a low chuckle. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Daniel shifted my panties aside and–

I woke up in bed, panting.

Crap! Now I was dreaming about him.

I huffed and got out of bed, annoyed with myself. It was the morning after my kiss with Daniel. After I stormed out of the storage closet, we hadn’t seen each other since. The kiss and the things I said to him were not my brightest move. He definitely suspected me even more than he already did.

As I took a shower and got ready for the day, I tried not to think about the addicting feeling of his lips on mine. I had the day off from working for the Molton Family and was going to use it for gathering information.

My heart started to beat fast as I got dressed and thought about what I was going to do today. I was hitting the streets and going into the ‘underworld’ to learn more about my dad’s death. Even though I grew up being a part of that world, it always made my blood pressure rise when I interacted with the people there. Because one wrong move, one misplaced word, one wrong glance, you could be dead. You needed to be very careful when navigating this world.

I wore a black and white long sleeve flannel, black jeans, and a black hat. It was best to dress as inconspicuous as possible. Unless you wanted to attract attention you didn’t dress to impress. After braiding my long blonde hair, I was out the door.

I was meeting someone not very far away from my apartment. Since I lived in such a crappy place, shady people weren’t very far away. The morning was sunny, but the crisp fall air greeted me and I was glad I wore a long-sleeved shirt. I walked with one hand in my purse, clutching my stun gun, and my head straight forward, knowing if I looked at someone wrong, I could start something I didn’t even mean to start.

Soon, I was at my destination, a diner across the street from my mother’s old strip club. The very same diner my father took me to the day I first met him. My heart clenched as I thought about it, but I banished that thought from my mind. I had work to do.

The person I was meeting, Lyle, was already here, leaning against the building with his arms crossed. I wouldn’t have chosen to meet here, but it had been his suggestion. I understood why. This diner was known for looking the other way when illegal topics were being discussed. There was an unspoken rule at this restaurant, the old saying, ‘Snitches get stitches’.

Lyle smiled when he saw me and gave me a one-armed hug in greeting. He was lanky and had shocking red hair. I’d known him since first grade. He was a good friend to me and we always looked out for each other.

His parents kicked him out around the same time my mother died. His parents had discovered him in bed with another guy. We were there for each other during our time being homeless. Around the time my father found me, Lyle’s uncle let him stay at his house. We kept in touch over the years, even though our lives went down completely different paths.

Lyle never found his way out of the streets. But from what I knew, he was doing well for himself, as well as you could do in this kind of world, and he made a decent living as a dealer and a pickpocketer.

When I started to work for the Moltons, I contacted him and asked if he could get me more information about the night my father was murdered. He texted me last night saying he finally found someone who knew something, but it was going to cost me. I had extra money saved up for this exact reason.

“Hi, Lyle. It’s good to see you,” I said as I hugged him back.

We walked into the diner and sat at a booth. The upholstery was red and there was a slit in it where I could see the padding coming out. Lyle ordered three coffees and after the server left, he looked around to make sure no one was listening. The diner was pretty empty this morning. Once the server brought us our coffee, Lyle leaned forward as he put creamer into his drink.

“My informant is meeting us here in five, but I wanted to give you a little background on her before she shows up,” he told me in a low voice.

I nodded, gesturing for him to go on.

“Her name is Peaches.” I raised my eyebrows at the name. “She’s a prostitute,” Lyle explained.

I nodded. This made sense. Because women who worked the street had such a wide range of clientele, it was easy for them to hear and gather information.

“Peaches is also a part of an underground informant group called The Cherry Pickers,” Lyle went on. “She said this information was hard to obtain, so it’s going to be pretty expensive.”

He sipped his coffee and looked at me nervously. It seemed like he was hesitant to tell me the price.

“How much?” I asked simply.

“Five-hundred. Cash.”

Holy shit.

That was way more than what I was expecting. I had that amount with me, but I was hoping it would be a lot less. This was going to put a huge dent in my savings.

“Are you sure the information is true and credible? I don’t want to get burned,” I said in a quiet voice.

Lyle nodded with determination. “I’m sure. I’ve been working with Peaches for a long time. Her info is always legit.”

Did I really want to spend all that money? How did I even know that I could fully trust Peaches? Well, I did trust Lyle and he trusted her. I would be stupid if I didn’t seize this opportunity. Who knew if something like this would ever come up again? I was just going to have to take this risk and hope it paid off.

“Oh, here she is now,” Lyle said, standing up.

I turned around and studied the woman crossing the doorway. Peaches was drop-dead gorgeous. The woman had smooth dark skin, a long blonde wig, and eccentric makeup. She had curves in all the right places and sashayed into the diner like she owned the place. Even though the fall morning had a chill to it, she was wearing a tight white dress and seemed unbothered by it. I couldn’t tell how old she was. Her face didn’t have any wrinkles, but I could tell from the look in her deep dark eyes that she had lived a life.

She slid into the booth across from me. Lyle sat back down next to her. Before I could introduce myself, before I could say anything at all, Peaches took a long drink from her coffee cup, then eyed me over it.

“Listen, I don’t have long. I need the payment before I tell you anything,” she started flatly.

I wanted to negotiate, but looking at her now, I was certain that it would be a lost fight. So, I opened my purse and counted out the money, handing it to her. After she was assured that the correct amount was there, she stuffed it unceremoniously into her bra.

“Lyle told me that you’re aware that the Moltons were there the night of the shootout on 12th Street. The night the pig was killed, right?” Peaches asked me in a low voice, then sipped more of her coffee.

“Yes.”

I was glad Lyle hadn’t told her the cop was my father. Having a ‘pig’ for a father would earn me nothing but distrust on the streets. It would make matters even worse if people were aware I had been training to be one.

“My sources tell me another gang was present that night,” Peaches added darkly.

“Who?” I pressed, leaning forward in anticipation.

Peaches glanced around, making sure no one was listening in. If I didn’t know any better, I would say she looked scared.

“The Taddeo Family,” she whispered.

Shit.

No wonder Peaches looked terrified. I didn’t know that gang personally, but I had heard horror stories growing up about the Taddeos. Their members were very dangerous and ruthless. They were involved with horrible shit like dealing to underage kids and human trafficking. The Taddeo Family made the Moltons seem like a church group.

It wasn’t much of a stretch to believe the Taddeos could be the ones behind my father’s death. My dad had been trying to rid Detroit of all gang activity.

Was it possible I’d been wasting my time with the wrong gang? Had all my work been for nothing? Was I going to have to restart and try to get in with the Taddeos? Wouldn’t that look suspicious to both gangs? I heard that the Taddeos were hard to get close to and you basically have to be born into the gang to work for them.

I rubbed my temples slowly. This new information was giving me a headache. It felt like I had taken a giant step backward from figuring out the mystery that had plagued me for so long. I was tired despite the caffeine flowing through my system. I was so confused.

Now, more than ever, I had no idea who was at fault.