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Something’s off and wrong. He has resources and two days later Walsh should know by now that the list consists of six men on a rotating schedule doing Marcus’s dirty work. At some point, they’d lead to him.
“You don’t know, do you?” Walsh’s expression changes as he drops his gaze to the slick bar top of black quartz. “Vodka, no ice.” Hard, late nights and no sleep paint the face of the man sitting across from me.
“Straight,” I answer, nodding toward Anthony, a bartender to my right who’s listening in. Everyone who works in this bar works for Cross.
“You got it.” He’s a young guy, earning his way and learning how things are done. Not bad looking and knows how to take an order, so Jase stuck him here. I know he’s itching for more. He’s motivated and wants to move up. This right here, having him close enough to hear is more than a test to see how he does, what he does and what comes out of his mouth after the fact. It’s everything for him to be on this side of the bar right now. Given the nerves that are evident as he nearly drops the shot glass, it’s showing.
“Don’t know what?” Jase asks calmly, although I can see just beneath the surface rage is brewing. I don’t like to think that I have a temper. Jase though, he’s got a hot one for both Walsh and Marcus.
Maybe when it comes to Laura. I have a bit of a temper if she’s involved, I’ll admit that, but when it comes to business, I like to think I can set my emotions to the side. I think that’s why Jase and I make a good fit. I’ve enjoyed working under him even. Watching the way he does things and learning new methods. I didn’t start at the bar though, I started in the parking lot, with a gun in my hand.
The music pounds, the bass thrumming through my veins and the lights dip low with the sound of a roar of excitement from the dance floor.
Walsh exhales, low and steady, flexing both of his hands on the bar. I’m conscious of where they go and every move he makes. Public place or not, Walsh is a desperate man fueled by revenge. I don’t trust either of those aspects.
“You gave me six names,” Walsh starts and then a chilled heavy glass of clear liquid is placed in front of him. I nod a thanks to Anthony, and wait as Walsh sips it first. It takes Anthony a moment to get the hint not to stay close, but he gets it as Walsh throws it back.
“I put them through the database and got six addresses,” he says flatly, tilting his empty glass on the table. In my periphery, I watch as Jase crosses his arms. The way his jaw is clenched is an indication that he’s holding back and he’s on edge.
“Another?” I offer, and Walsh shakes his head, meeting my stare. It’s then that I realize, all his attention is focused on me. None at all on Jase Cross. He’s barely looked at Jase. I don’t like the unease that climbs up my spine.
“When I got to the first address, I knew something was wrong. The lights didn’t work. Electric had been cut. Next to the body on the floor was a note. Same with the next address and the next. All but the blonde woman on the list. She’s missing, but her body wasn’t dead at her place.”
My blood runs cold. Dead. “They’re all dead?” Jase questions.
“Every single one of them.” Walsh’s nostrils flare and the tension between the three of us is at an all-time high. This is fucked.
“If you think you can fuck with me,” Walsh practically spits, the anger but also the frustration showing in his reddened eyes.
“No one’s fucking with you,” Jase says and slams both of his hands down on the bar, getting the attention of a number of patrons. I don’t touch him or hint to anything at all with Jase.
“What did the note say?” I ask Walsh, needing information. Information is everything.
Walsh’s hard gaze turns to me and he says, “Funny you should be the one to ask. It said: Was it Fletcher who did it, or Laura’s father?”
The confusion weaves its way through my expression quickly enough and that’s when the coldness hits, followed by the heat of rage. Marcus got to them first. He killed the men, knowing we knew about them.
My jaw twitches and I move for the first time since Walsh has been in here. Fuck! Adrenaline courses through me.
“I knew of Fletcher and you. I knew that one.” Walsh keeps talking. I can barely keep my focus on the words spewing from his mouth. I can’t even fucking breathe.
