Chapter 5 - PERRY’S RECKONING
Knox Sheridan stood in the doorway.
He didn't run. He didn't shout. He walked into the room with the unhurried, terrifying grace of a panther entering a confined cage.
Behind him, Perry filled the entire width of the entrance, his massive hands resting loosely at his sides, his eyes locked onto Marcus and his associates with cold, clinical indifference.
The temperature in Maize seemed to drop ten degrees instantly.
Marcus froze, the framed recipe notebook still clutched in his hand. He forced a strained, nervous grin, trying to recover his bravado. "Well, well. Look who's slumming it today, Sheridan. I didn't realize you took up auditing local diners—"
Knox didn't look at Marcus. His eyes were fixed entirely on the framed notebook dangling crookedly in Marcus's grip. Then, slowly, his gaze rose to meet Marcus's eyes.
"You are touching something that does not belong to you," Knox said softly. His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried an absolute weight that silenced the ambient hum of the street outside.
"Relax, Knox, we were just—"
Thud.
Marcus never finished the sentence. Perry moved with shocking, unnatural speed for a man of his size. In less than a second, Perry crossed the floor, caught Marcus by the throat, and slammed him backward against the wooden wall with enough force to shatter the glass frame in Marcus's hand. The old leather notebook tumbled safely from Marcus's limp fingers, caught mid-air by Perry’s massive left hand before it ever touched the floor.
The three other enforcers instinctively reached inside their suit jackets for their sidearms.
"Don't," Perry rumbled, his voice vibrating like thunderous bass. He didn't even draw a weapon; he simply stared at them with the dead eyes of an executioner.
Knox walked forward, stepping over the shards of broken glass. He stopped inches from Marcus, who was gasping for air against the wood paneling, his face turning an alarming shade of purple under Perry's unyielding grip.
Knox reached out, took the leather notebook gently from Perry's hand, and brushed a speck of dust off its cover. He turned back toward the kitchen, where Jolene stood shielding Mabel behind her apron.
"Are you and the child unharmed?" Knox asked Jolene, his tone softening just enough to reveal the fractured human beneath the armor.
Jolene nodded breathlessly, her eyes wide with shock and fear. "Yes... yes, we're fine."
Knox turned his cold gaze back to Marcus. He leaned in close, speaking in a low, frozen hiss that only Marcus could hear.
"Sal Marcone thinks he can reach into my past because he's desperate," Knox whispered. "Tell him that if any of his men ever step foot within three blocks of Lamar Street again, I won't just burn his operations to the ground—I will dismantle his entire syndicate piece by piece while he watches from a hospital bed."
Perry loosened his grip slightly, allowing Marcus to drop coughing and wheezing onto the floor.
May you like
"Get out," Knox commanded.
The enforcers didn't hesitate. They hauled their gasping leader up by his arms and scrambled backward out the door, abandoning their car in the middle of the street as they sped away into the Memphis rain.
