Chapter 8: Meeting Dustin

It wasn't just Wesley who thought it was strange. Even Donovan felt something was off. Wesley had gotten along well with people at the company and had solved more than a few headaches for them. Yet, they fired him without a word. Even Donovan hadn't seen it coming. The whole thing smelled fishy. "Wesley!" Donovan started to say more, but Wesley lifted a hand to stop him. "All right, if I'm fired, it's fine. But if anything comes up, reach out to me." The delivery job had only been a way to lie low for a while. If it was gone, it was gone. He didn't particularly care. He had no interest in making trouble for management. He had gotten along well enough with Donovan at the delivery hub and wouldn't have minded giving him a leg up if the chance arose. With that, Wesley turned and walked out of the courier office. A few others wanted to walk him out, but he waved them back as well. He had barely gone a few steps when a handful of men came swaggering up and sneering. Wesley recognized one of them at once. It was Big D, the same punk he had beaten at the Lynch family's stall. The thugs closed in as soon as Wesley approached. There were fewer of them than last time, only five, but one man stood out. He was all ropey muscle and brutal intent, the kind you could spot trouble on, a cut above the rest and twice as nasty. "Wesley Kershaw, right? What happened to you? Lost your job?" Big D sauntered up with a greasy grin. The others watched Wesley, eyes jeering. Wesley realized it instantly. The firing had been their doing. Otherwise, given how often he skipped work and never got fired, why would the company axe him overnight? The courier company had clearly been threatened. These thugs thrived on scaring people. The company couldn't afford to take them on, so it took the safe path and let go of Wesley. They picked on the easiest target. Wesley narrowed his eyes and regarded them without a word. Seeing his silence, Big D thought he had Wesley cowed and grew even bolder. "Listen up, kid. In this slum, what Big D says goes. If I want you dead by midnight, you won't see dawn. You hit me, you got a death wish." "Yeah? So you're adamant? Didn't get enough of a beating last time?" Wesley flexed his wrist, easy and loose. Big D flinched and hopped back two steps, then screeched, "Don't think you're tough. I brought backup today. This time, you won't know what hit you. Losing your job was just the first step. I'll have you crawling around begging!" "Fine. I'll wait right here while you make me crawl around begging." Wesley took a step forward. Big D jerked back again and yanked the fiercest of his men by the arm. "Jaylen, that's the guy. He hit our boys. Fix him." Big D had brought Jaylen from his gang boss. Jaylen outclassed Big D's usual crowd in both skill and physique. Big D was sure this time they'd put Wesley in the ground. Whoosh! Jaylen stepped in and blocked Wesley's path. "You laid hands on my people. You tired of living?" Wesley slit his eyes and kept coming as if he hadn't heard. "You asked for it. Don't cry about it later!" Wham! Jaylen exploded forward, sprang, and whipped a leg at Wesley, a scything kick that came fast, wind hissing off it.  If it landed, it could've killed a man on the spot. "All show and no substance." Wesley didn't bother to dodge.  He snapped a kick of his own, almost casual, and met Jaylen's sweep square on the thigh. Wham! Jaylen flew back like he had been shot out of a cannon, slammed onto the concrete with a heavy thud, and skidded backward before going limp. Blood bubbled at his nose and mouth. He didn't so much as twitch. "Holy shit!" The thugs were instantly frightened, scattering in all directions. They hadn't been a match to begin with, and their ringer had been swatted like a fly. Who would stick around after that? Big D ran the fastest, wishing he had been born with four legs. He had barely taken two strides when a hand clamped the back of his neck and lifted him clean off the ground. "You can't kill me!" Big D babbled, face chalk-white, sweat pouring down his brow. "I'm one of Mr. Dustin's men. You touch me, Mr. Dustin won't let you go." "Mr. Dustin?" Wesley laughed and slammed Big D down.  "Get up. Take me to Mr. Dustin." "What? You want to see Mr. Dustin?" Big D's crew just stared, stunned. Wesley had beaten Dustin's men. Dustin had been looking for him. And Wesley wanted to meet him? Still, that suited them fine, saved them the trouble of asking Dustin to send people after Wesley. Big D put on a brave face, trying to look fearless.  "All right. Your call. Hope you don't chicken out when you see Mr. Dustin." "Quit yapping! Move."  Wesley kicked Big D to get him going. They climbed into a car by the curb and headed for the city. As they pulled away, Big D shot a quick look at a few of his men. Wesley noticed the signal and didn't care. With guys like this, you end it for good, or they'll keep coming back and making your life hell. Best to finish it once and for all. Before long, they pulled up to a five-story building inside a walled compound. Wesley hauled Big D by the nape straight through the gate. Across the top of the building, gilt letters spelled out Thalvara Trading Corporation. The yard was packed—well over a hundred people, including kickboxers, underground fighters, and even some retired special-ops guys. The crowd parted. In the middle stood a powerfully built, slightly paunchy, bald man, his presence unmistakable. This was Dustin, known on the street as Mr. Dustin, once famed as the fiercest man in the South District. He had a cigar clenched between his teeth and stared at the gate with a mocking smile. He was curious what sort of madman had the gall to cross the Thalvara Trading Corporation. As the car rolled in, the crowd turned feral, all swagger and menace. They all stared hard at the entrance.