chapter 63

ASHTON

Three months later and Elijah was directing Shorty Easter to my new place of business. It was just one of many. I’d moved it farther north of the city, and we owned a good acreage on the Hudson River. This particular new building was a warehouse, one that no body of government was aware of. Yet.

It was also the perfect place for me to fulfill my second promise to Molly.

Elijah brought him inside. We were both ignoring his protests as he put him in a chair and whisked off the bag from over his head.

Shorty quieted, blinking a few times for his gaze to adjust to the change. It was daylight outside, the sun fully shining down, and in here, all dark except for a few lamps in the corner.

“Ashton Walden?” Shorty’s hair was greasy, as always. He had his usual homeless-esque attire on. A cargo jacket with holes for the elbows. The pocket was pulled off. The ends of his jacket were shredded and frayed. His jeans were just as bad, and I couldn’t see what kind of shirt he had on under the