That shut him up.Good. Now it all lined up. Midas gone. Revenue up. Routes unchanged. My father is still involved. Which meant —
I pushed away from the wall, straightening.
“Appreciate the concern,” I said, my voice neutral despite the rage in my head. “But everything’s under control.”
The commissioner didn’t move. “See that it stays that way.”
I gave him a short nod and walked past him, not rushed and without hesitation, but the second I turned the corner the pieces locked into place. None of them sat right.
12
KILLER INSTINCT
November 23rd
Brian shipped me off before I even had time to breathe; there was no love lost between us as he shoved yet another folder into my hand and booted me out the door. “Remember that goes to that captain first thing when you land.”
I threw up a half salute grabbing the keys to my truck and driving towards the airfield. C.O.R.E. wasn’t fancy enough to have its own private jet or anything, so it was a lovely flight in coach. As soon as we landed, the brothers grabbed their duffles and plopped in the back of Simmons’ Humvee like it was a vacation. She looked annoyed as hell to be on pickup duty.
“I am not babysitting dumb and dumber in the backseat.” She scoffed as she started the engine.
“Kade, James chill for five minutes for fucks sake you act like a pair of toddlers.” I remarked as I slid into the passenger seat.
“Your car’s at impound you can pick it up after you drop the paperwork off.” Her tone was rough, as if she wanted to say more but held back in the present company. The way her jaw ticked told me she was pissed at my sudden dash as soon as the church was cleared. There were sixteen dead. Three nuns and an altar boy, innocent in a war. Simmons probably had to tell their families; she hated delivering news of deaths that could have been prevented. I sighed, leaning my head against the window.
“Thanks,” I muttered when she turned the music up to drown out the current debate in the back seat on if you fuck a mute girl does she scream. Fucking animals, these two were better off in their own world than in society, but they were like brothers to me so I had long drowned out their vulgar commentary. It didn’t take long to get to the station. Captain Marshals was waiting at the door, my keys and badge in her hands.
“Don’t even think about running away this time, you are on a short leash.”
“Yes ma’am.” I swallowed.
“You two still need to check in and do paperwork. I don’t care what you do in other cities, but this is my city and you will follow the rules.” She hollered at Kade and James, who promptly groaned before acknowledging and heading inside with Capt.
“Jones,” Simmons said before I stepped away.
“Yeah?”
“Look, you’ve been my partner these past five years, and you left without a word. I don’t like it. If you leave again, at least say goodbye.” I nodded. I hadn’t considered that Simmons would be the sentimental type, but as I looked at her stoic face and the bleeding worry lines, I knew she was being truthful with her words.
“I won’t leave without telling you.” I spoke matter-of-factly. She held out her hand, and I shook it, pulling her into a bear hug. She was caught off guard before she returned the gesture.
“I missed you too Simmons.” I smiled and headed off to grab my car.
The keys jingledin the lock as the bolt turned and the door opened. The stale air hit me, and I internally groaned. It had only been a few months at most, and yet the house seemed frozen in time.
Dropping my keys on the side table by the door, my eyes spotted a bright blue book next to the open one on the coffee table. I sighed, pulling my pistol from my ankle holster.
“I know you’re in here, come out, I won’t shoot you again.”
I walked slowly towards the living room, and the fresh scent of watermelon permeated the air. A groan fell from my lips as I recalled the last time I had Summer.Snap out of it. She is probably here to kill you.I cleared the living room, pausing to read the title of the book she’d left.Goddess’s Rage by Margareta Strööm.I hadn’t gotten a chance to read the second one with everything else that followed.
She cares.The thought warmed me before another chilling thought replaced it.No, she’s a killer. She is buttering you up fordeath.I shook the thoughts out of my head before I entered the kitchen. Pistol still raised, I saw her frame in my fridge.
“Is all you have whiskey and expired orange juice? I was really craving that fettuccine again.” She said in almost in a pout, over her shoulder. I moved on silent feet until the barrel of my gun kissed her blonde hair.
“What are you doing here?” I cocked the gun, not trusting her intentions.
“I came for food. It was on the way to — well never mind. Are you in Riven to stay or heading to New York?”
