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Every jerk of his gaze around the warehouse.
With a drawn-out sigh, I rolled up the papers he’d slipped my sister the n
ight before, hitting my palm with them as I started walking in a slow circle around him. “Lie.”
His head snapped up and tried to follow me. “No! N-no, I did-I didn’t. Swear to God, Demitri. I wouldn’t.”
I waited until I was in front of him and bent to eye level before I spoke again. Lifting the papers slightly, I asked, “You expect me to believe that Holloway’s now selling to law enforcement? That they’re getting their supply into prisons now?”
I knew for a fact that Mickey O’Sullivan had drugs going to people in the government, but not law enforcement.
He was stupid—just not that stupid.
The paperwork this guy had sent my way had all been fabricated, and I knew Mickey was behind it. Knew the Holloway snitch in front of me had probably let slip to Mickey that we were watching every move and he was trying to lead us in false directions.
I wasn’t so easily led.
“Swear to God. I’ve been taking it myself. Every week I make the drop off.” Sweat ran from the man’s brow and dripped down his nose, and his voice grew shallow as he continued to ramble and bullshit.
Lie.
I held out the papers until Johnny took them from me, slanting my eyes at him in a look that had his mouth twisting into a crazed smirk as he backed slowly away.
Johnny and I had grown up together. Been best friends for as long as I could remember, and worked together for most that time. We worked together well. He knew what I would do as soon as I decided on it, and I knew how to calm his homicidal tendencies.
Unfortunately, I’d just unleashed that manic need inside him to watch someone’s life slip from their eyes because people couldn’t be allowed to live when they threatened everything.
And a snitch who started playing both sides undeniably threatened everything.
I slid my arm around my back, curling my hand around the grip of my gun and pulling it out of my waistband.
The man thrashed in the chair as understanding and fear filled his eyes. “It’s the truth, I swear! I swear to God—I’ll do anything. I’ll—”
“Truth or dare,” I said in a calm, dark tone, and waited for his answer when he started sobbing.
“T-t-truth. Truth. I’m telling you the truth. What do you want? I’ll work for you—only you. I’ll tell you anything. I’ll f-feed you any information from Holloway you want. Just don’t fucking kill me,” he cried out. “It’s the truth. I’ll tell you anything.”
I clicked my tongue and tilted my head to the side. “If you were telling the truth, you wouldn’t—”
“Lily O’Sullivan is still alive.”
My taunt died in my throat.
It felt as if all the oxygen was sucked from the large space, then replaced with a fire so hot it was agonizing.
Rage burned deep inside me, spreading through every inch of my body until I was consumed with it—until all I could see was her. Until all I knew was the pain of holding her limp in my arms, blood covering us both.
“The fuck you just say?” My voice could barely be heard over the inferno in the warehouse, but the man shakily looked up at me.
His voice leveled out and his eyes held mine. “Lily O’Sullivan is still alive.”
I glanced at Johnny, but wished I hadn’t.
My normally stone-faced friend’s expression was a mixture of the same rage and shock I felt.
Looking back at the man, I staggered a step away. My body felt heavy. Wrong.
He was wrong. He had to be. Because otherwise—I forced the thought from my head. He was wrong . . .
