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“Corv,” Becca said, gagging again. “Can we go?”
“What’s that?”
“What’s what?”
My brows furrowed at the rough scrape in the dark wood desk beneath a sheet of the note paper next to Julia’s head.
I pushed the sheet of paper out of the way and found the carved line in the wood had a curve to it.
Quickly, I began to tear the sheets of paper from the surface of the desk, revealing jagged lettering carved into its surface.
“Sorry, Julia,” I uttered, lifting her heavy head off the desk to hang back in her chair. A smear of her putrefied remains clung to the pages, gluing them to the surface of the desk, and I had to scrape them free, swallowing the taste of bile as it rose up the back of my throat.
I swiped what remained from the desk with my forearm and stood back to read the message left for me.
No, not for me.
Forus.
No more carrion for the Crows
Below the hastily scratched in text were smaller letters. A signature.
I roared, rage singing in my veins, exploding in my eyes, tinting my vision red as I flipped the desk and spun, storming out of the office and through the kitchen, back to the front door. To the air I needed to get a hold on myself.
My fingers curled around the wooden banister, flexing the old wood to the point of snapping as I pushed the rage down. Swallowed it back.
Controlled it.
Control it.
“C-Corvus?” Becca hedged, hovering in the apartment. “What did it say?”
I whirled on her, taking the papers from under her arm, making her yelp as I threw them back into the apartment. “We don’t need those,” I seethed. “I know who did this.”
Maverickand a small group of his men entered the underground fight club, chins raised like the Kings they thought they were. Mav went straight for Dies, his hand extended, a carefully placed grin on his lips.
“A righteous win, St. Crow,” Mav said. “My boys and I just finished sweeping the area west of Spirit Lake. None escaped.”
Dies nodded, continuing the pre-meeting conversation with Maverick. Going over which areas specifically Mav and his men covered as well as several other things that needed to be seen to.
I spied Drake beside his leader and caught his eye.
He lifted his chin in greeting, excusing himself from Mav’s side to come over to the edge of the room near the bar where Grey and I sat at one of the high top tables. The three chairs already occupied by both of us and my bum fucking leg.
I wouldn’t be moving it for Drake’s ass, either.
“Hey,” he said, waving the bartender Dies called on short notice behind the bar for a beer. “Heard anything from your girl, yet?”
He pushed his sandy blond hair away from his forehead, leaning over the table to look between us.
“Nothing,” Grey said, his tone clipped.
Drake shook his head. “I don’t get it. I searched the entire Deadwood for her. She couldn’t have gotten that far on foot.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if she jacked one of the Kings’ cars or bikes,” I put in, also waving to the bartender for a whiskey.
Her jaw clenched and she stilled, brown eyes jerking between my father across the room and me.
