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“Her craziness drove her to commit murder.”
“Now, that’s a much better tidbit for drawing suspense. And?”
“The man she killed was a public figure. A mayoral candidate, in fact. The one who would’ve for sure won that year’s election, considering he was the people’s favorite. She stabbed him thirty-four times, repeatedly, long after he was dead.”
My ears buzz with a grating ringing sound and the walls start closing in around me. The onslaught is so sudden that I have trouble breathing. The collar of my hoodie scratches against my skin and my side where my tattoo tingles and burns.
“Sounds bloody brutal,” Eli says.
“Looked gruesome, too. I was sent with a few others to the murder scene to remove any incriminating evidence before the authorities came along. The man had an absolutely horrified expression, as if his soul had been extracted by the devil himself.”
“And?” Eli asks.
“There’s no and. That’s the incident Landon wanted details about. I told him that the murder of the mayoral candidate was swept under the rug and no one was convicted for it. In fact, his mask was ripped off in public. Turns out, he was never the righteous man the media had portrayed him to be. Many women came forward confessing that he’d sexually assaulted them, including the homeless he was supposed to be taking care of as the shelter’s director. He also kept a file full of videos and pictures of them that he held over their heads as a form of blackmail. His wife was also accused of recruiting suitable candidates for his sick tastes. It was the ultimate shaming event for him and his family, and all the vapid mouths turned to his wife. She lost everything her husband left her to loan sharks and was about to be prosecuted for abetting sexual assault. So she committed double suicide with her son. I heard he was just a toddler.”
I pull on the collar of my hoodie with jerky fingers, my breathing so heavy, I’m surprised they don’t hear it. When I speak, I don’t recognize the raw quality of my voice. “Name.”
The guard raises a brow. “What?”
“Name. The dead man’s fucking name.”
A cloud of smoke reaches me first, clogging my already closed throat, before his calm words cut me in half. “Green. Richard Green.”
I drive my fist against the wall so hard, pain and blood explode from my knuckles.
Eli casts a glance at me, brows knitting before his face goes back to a blank slate. “I assume your boss is the one who encouraged those girls to come forward and pulled strings to destroy the Green family?”
“You assume correctly. I don’t know how true those accusations were, but I’m certain that Boss made sure to ruin Richard’s reputation so thoroughly that no one considered him a hero anymore. In fact, people started expressing relief that such vermin had been killed.”
“And that’s all you told Landon?” Eli asks.
“That’s all I know.” He throws his blunt down and steps on it with his shoe. “I’ll be in touch for my money.”
“I suggest you run as far as you can go.” Eli squeezes his shoulder. “Debts will be the least of your worries if your dear boss or his son finds out there’s a traitor in their ranks.”
“You fucking—”
Eli squeezes tighter, then whispers, “You aren’t running.”
The guard glances at the ground, but before he can reach for the gun, Eli picks it up and releases a displeased sound, then points it at him. “No guns on UK soil, remember? But maybe I can change the rules just this once?”
The guard spits at him before he hobbles out of the alley.
I’m only half focused, half conscious about what’s happening around me. Then the pieces of the puzzle start to fit together.
The clearer the image, the bloodier it gets.
The muddier my head turns.
The heavier my breathing becomes.
I pull my fist from the wall—my good one, the one I use to fight with—then slam it against the wall again. Stronger this time so that a splash of blood decorates the dirty surface.
Not enough.
This pain isn’t enough to drown the chaos that’s nearly splitting my brain open. Or the facts that come with it.
Such as Lia and Adrian Volkov being the villains of my childhood.
