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“I’ll text you the address,” Rox tells me, as Kavanagh turns around without a word and walks away.
I watch the look she shares with Maddox before he too walks away, and then her eyes meet mine. They say a million things including the promise of death and lust. Like two ends of the spectrum all vividly shining in them.
I take a step forward, bringing me within touching distance of her, and I can smell her, the scent of her that licks at my skin and hardens my dick every damn time.
“Rox…”
Her finger on my lips stops anymore words. “Don’t. We’ll talk at Kavanagh’s.” Then she turns and hurries after Kavanagh. I watch her until she disappears out of sight before joining Maddox in the car.
He’s got the car running and is gripping the steering wheel like his life depends on it.
“Care to explain?” I ask, as I settle in the seat and pull my phone out as a message comes through. While I wait for him to reply, I check the message, which is from Rox, and put the address she sent into the satnav. He’s still not answered but we’re moving at least. “Mad, what the fuck happened?”
He releases a long, deep sigh and glances at me. “She was waiting for me in Mickey’s office. We argued, and she knows that we know who killed her mum, so she’s pissed, end of story.”
“Okay…and the rest?” I raise my brows and tilt my head. “What else, man?”
He shifts in his seat before giving me another furtive look and thinking I didn’t see. “She had a fucking gun to my head,” he blurts out in an almost embarrassed rush that I nearly miss.
“Say again?” I ask around a laugh.
“You fucking heard me, Zak.” He’s quiet for a second before adding, “And we fucked.”
“Oh, this is priceless. Of course, you did. She likes a little weapon play,” I offer with a wink, which earns me a scowl and a grunt. “Okay, let’s be serious here for a sec. Who’s the big mouth, Kavanagh?” He nods. “What else does do you think he knows or has told her?”
“That I don’t know but given he’s related to Rogers we need to be prepared for anything.”
“Even more so after he spoke with Bonner outside The Watchtower tonight.” Maddox’s eyes flick to me, and I give a nod of confirmation. “I called you but I’m guessing you were busy,” I jest. I spot a silver car up ahead that I’m certain is Kavanagh’s. It’s pretentious and screams of arrogance so is perfect for the prick.
“Let’s see what they have to say once we are there. You going to fill me in on what’s happening with Bowser now?”
I had been hoping that the shit with Rox and Kavanagh would have distracted him for a little longer but obviously not. I’m not sure telling him that we might have another traitor in the ranks is a good idea before we sit down with Kavanagh given his current mood, despite getting his dick wet, which would normally calm him somewhat.
“Okay, but keep your head straight, Maddox. When Bowser turned up this evening, it got me thinking about how the old bill got through the gates. So, I checked the CCTV, and they opened the gates, which means they had a fob.”
I watch the rage spread, rising up his face like a wave. “Who?” he grits out the words.
“We don’t know for sure, which is why I sent Bowser to his house.”
“Just fucking tell me who, Zak,” he demands, fists squeezing the steering wheel in what I imagine is a direct replica of what he plans to do to whichever cunt has betrayed us now.
I let out a heavy sigh. “The fob belongs to Rocky. But we don’t know for sure yet. Just let B find him first.”
“Son of a fucking bitch!” he hollers, slamming his hand down on the steering wheel. He’s silent afterwards, and I leave him to it.
We pull up behind Kavanagh’s car and watch as he and Rox exit, along with the guy who was with them at The Watchtower.
“You think I’ll get away with taking my blade in there?” Maddox shakes his head. “Nah, me neither. Guess we’re going in empty handed again.” He lets out a growl of disapproval before climbing out.
I join him on the path, and we walk to where Rox is waiting for us. Kavanagh hasn’t even bothered to wait and has gone on inside.
“Come on,” she says, and we follow her inside Kavanagh’s expensive Mayfair home.
Once inside, she leads us to the lounge where Kavanagh is already waiting and has removed his suit jacket and is pouring himself a drink. He’s not what I was expecting. The Kavanagh we know doesn’t wear suits or ride in luxury silver cars with blacked-out windows, nor does he live in fucking Mayfair.
With one foot inside the door, the beefcake from the car steps forward as Kavanagh speaks.
“Gentlemen, welcome. Connor here, will pat you down before we get started. I’m sure you’ve many questions.”
