Stop provoking, Lach, Flynny.
“How handy you have a sociopath in your own backyard then.”
Lachlan’s hold loosens, the edge to his mien melting away as pity creeps in. “You’re nothing like the men I hunt, Flynn.”
“If you say so.” Sometimes I believe Lach when he says things like that. I know, on a fundamental level, that I have no desire to hurt anyone the way Hope was hurt. But I also know that I’m not like other people. That closing my hands around someone’s neck is as easy to me as breathing. And a hell of a lot more thrilling.
Lachlan straightens out his sleeves and I watch, fascinated, as he tucks all that frustration back in a steel box. I imagine it locked away inside his head, all his demons fighting to get out. It must be exhausting.
“What’s your plan for the senator?”
“Still in progress.” I take my phone out of my pocket and turn on the cameras, just for a brief second, to check Hazel’s still safe at home. She’s sitting on the couch, her legs tucked up looking fucking adorable. I smile then force myself to be a good boy and close the feed.
When I look up, Lachlan’s eyes are narrowed on me. “You’re distracted.”
“I can multitask.”
“Can you?” He raises a brow. “You’re getting obsessed Flynn, but the second we deal with Claren you need to get on a plane out of here.”
“So keen to get rid of me so soon?”
“Enough with the jokes.” Lachlan snatches my phone, and my body reacts. I’ve got him pinned against the wall between one blink and the next, my hand around his throat.
“Give it back.”
Lachlan just holds my stare, that goddamn big brother look on his face. “Do. Not. Drag. An. Innocent. Girl. Into. This. Mess.”He taps my phone, making it light up, and the screen reflects, clear as day, in the dark glass doors behind him.
Fuck.He saw Hazel. My grip on his throat tightens and I fight the urge to scratch my own brother’s eyes out just for looking at my girl. That would definitely fall on the “not okay” end of Hope’s sociopath scale.
“I have it under control,” I say.
“Uh huh, sure.” He holds my phone out to me and I take it, letting go of his throat at the same time.
He straightens out his collar. “Tell me the plan with Claren.”
I slide my phone into my pocket and stare up at the sky. Clouds block out all the stars tonight but it’s better than the view I got between the bars of my cell.
“He’s clean,” I say on a sigh. “So clean he’s practically shiny.” It was easy finding dirt on my previous kills, a little stalking here, a little digging there and I knew where all the bodies were buried. Literally. But Claren has so much security I can’t even get close.
“You could just kill him without the evidence.”
“No. He’d die a hero, a victim. The world needs to know he’s the villain.” Fuck knows what that makes me, but I refuse to let Claren’s crimes stay buried.
“What if there’s nothing to find?”
“There will be.” No one commits just one crime, and no politician is that clean. I’d put my inheritance on Christian Claren hiding so many skeletons that his whole house would rattle if you shook it.
Lachlan picks up his glass off the garden table, holding it down by his side as he crosses to the patio doors. “I’ll talk to my contacts. See if anyone can point us in the right direction.”
I dip my head in thanks.
Lachlan slides the door open but stops before stepping inside. When he looks back at me, his face is shadowed, guardedin that way it always gets when he’s not quite sure how far I’m going to go. What lines I’m going to cross. But that’s the thing about sociopathy, to me, there are no lines. I rely on people like Hope to tell me what’s right and wrong and, well, Hope’s been gone for five years now.
I raise my brows. “Just say what you want to say, Lach.”
“The girl. I don’t know who she is to you but don’t do anything Hope wouldn’t want you to.”
Fire hits my sternum, his words striking a sharp emotion I can’t identify. It burns hot for one second before fading away and leaving a sour twist to my stomach. Trust Lachlan to say the one thing that might actually make me reflect on my own actions.
