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“You better make sure that doesn’t happen because it will kill her, Zak,” he states pointedly. “In the meantime, you need to put Rox in the picture about a lot of shit, Zak.”
“I know. Did you catch up with Noah?”
“Yeah, he’s still at the station for now, but I’ve put a tail on him in case he leaves. I’ve also got a friend looking into his phone records. If he’s connected to Rogers, then there must be a trail somewhere.”
“Yeah, I don’t think Rogers is the head honcho. These things are like fucking Medusa, and Rogers is one of the thousand smaller snakes.”
“You’ve spent ten years watching him, Zak, but it’s given you barely a thing. If you’re right and there’s someone else pulling the strings, then they truly are holding court as the fucking puppet master. Roxy and I have come up empty time and time again when it comes to Rogers. Every time he’s arrested, for anything, no matter how major, he worms his way out of it within a matter of hours.”
I shake my head. It’s been the same story for years even when Theo was alive. We all just assumed it was Theo’s influence that got him off, but for some time it’s been looking more and more like that’s not the case. There’s someone or an organisation we’ve missed watching his back, and nothing makes me more uneasy than the unknown.
ChapterThirteen
Maddox
As soon as the words leave her mouth, glass shatters and a scream echoes around the room, setting my bones on edge. I know that scream. I’ve heard it before. I watch in slow motion as Roxanne and Star fall to the floor, and I see the blood. Quickly scanning her up and down, I see it’s from her arm, and thank fuck it’s not a few inches to the right otherwise it would have been a very different picture.
Without a second to think on it and a quick nod to Zak, I sprint out the door and into the street, stepping into the shadow of a tree. It’s late, so the street is empty, and the only sound now is that of the police sirens heading this way. I stand and watch for a minute, waiting for the shooter to reveal himself.
Across the street is just another row of houses all except one. It’s a house that’s been converted into a small office complex with several rentable units over the three floors. It’s directly opposite Kavanagh’s place and would offer the perfect vantage point. If I was the shooter I’d pick there too, if I wasn’t smarter. It’s the only place in the whole street to offer an unobstructed view into Kavanagh’s first floor and easy enough to rent an office space or even break into if needed. Given that this shooter isn’t exactly a sniper, I’d bet money on him coming out of that block right about… Low and behold, some little punk wearing what looks to be Acers colours strolls out of the place like he’s going for an evening walk.
The sound of a police siren turning into the street has him picking up his pace, and as soon as he turns the corner at the end of the street, I jog after him, stopping shy of turning the corner and just peer round to see where he went. He’s still on foot and heading toward the Green Park.
I pull my phone from my pocket and shoot a message to Bowser, and his reply is almost instant.
I’ll meet you at the exit on the east side.
I slowly follow him, keeping to the shadows. My guess is he has a ride waiting for him or he dropped his car off nearby and walked. It’s too risky bringing a car directly to the job, more chance of it being seen by someone.
The plan is to check if he’s alone or not, and if he is, Bowser and I will be taking him for a little drive. As he approaches the park, I eagerly wait to see where he’ll go. For a second, I think I misjudged him, but at the last minute, he turns away from the entrance and continues around the perimeter to the east.
Further up the road, I watch a car turn into the road and slow down as it approaches the target. I speed up, reaching the target as the car comes to a stop. He doesn’t get a chance to respond when he turns and sees me coming at him because my fist flies at his face, hitting him square on the nose. Bundling him up, I shove him inside the back of Bowser’s car where he hands me some gaffer tape and cable ties for our guest.
I make quick work of securing him while Bowser drives us out to one of a couple of empty properties we own. They come in handy for times just like this.
After getting him settled inside, I check my phone and see a message from Zak letting me know everyone is fine and to meet back at home but not to return to Kavanagh’s; cops crawling all over the place.
Relief trickles through my body, but the soothing effects are quickly chased away by anger at the man tied to the chair in front of me.
“Did you find Rocky?” I ask quietly.
“No, not yet. His phone is either off or dead, so no chance of tracking him. When we’ve finished here, I’ll go back to his and check again. He’s been screwing some chick lately, but I don’t have a fucking clue who. Maybe he’s with her.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, rubbing my chin. Muffled mumbling from behind draws my attention, and I turn to face our little shooter friend. Seems being the guest of a Lawler isn’t as fun as you might think. I’m not sure the facilities are up to scratch either looking at the little puddle that’s gathered beneath his chair. “You get yourself a bit excited over there? If you needed to take a leak, you only had to say.” I tut and shake my head as I walk closer to him.
He tries to talk again behind the gaffer tape stuck to his mouth, but it just sounds like a load of gibberish.
Stepping up to him, I reach out and rip the tape away in one go. A roar rumbles through the empty property, making me chuckle. He draws in a couple of deep breaths before he tries to talk.
“Screw you, man!” It’s weak just like him. Makes me wonder if he was even the one to pull the trigger. The fact we didn’t find a gun on him isn’t necessarily suspicious, as he could have stashed it somewhere, but his lack of…well, anything certainly has me doubting him as the shooter. This guy looks as though his own shadow would have him shitting himself.
“What’s a member of the Acers doing in Mayfair? A little out of your league, no?”
“Visiting a friend, not that it’s any of your business. Whoever you are.”
“You don’t know who I am?” He shakes his head, causing me to frown. “Aren’t you full of surprises. What’s your name?”
“It’s Calvin. I don’t know what you think I’ve done, but you’ve got the wrong person.”
