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“What are you not saying?” Maddox demands, and I’m inclined to agree with him here.
Kavanagh holds all our gazes a moment and lets out a heavy sigh. “Roxy, do you remember when I told you about Stanley Taylor?”
I nod and recall not being able to think where from before. However, this time, after a moment, it comes to me.
“Oh shit. Stanley Taylor was the guy working a racketeering ring over in Brixton and was taken out by SCO19, the Specialist Crime and Operations Specialist Firearms Command, when he came out of his house brandishing a fucking shotgun.” Kavanagh is nodding at me, like he’s imploring me to keep going. Then the penny drops. “That’s the case I was working the first time I met Noah.” My mind spins like crazy as I remember my conversation with James in the cell about not making whatever he had on me stick. I suspected that whatever evidence they had on me was falsified, but the fingerprints on Maddox’s gun were very real. There’s only three ways that could have happened, they were still there from years ago, which is extremely unlikely given how much use the gun has had over the past ten or more years, or someone planted them there. The third option isn’t even an option because I’ve not seen or held that gun, or any other, in years.
“Wait, are you saying that not only is Rogers working with James, but so is Noah?” Zak asks.
“More than that, right? You think that me meeting Noah wasn’t an accident?” I ask, directing my question to Kavanagh. “It was orchestrated. But to what purpose.”
“It’s my understanding that James wanted Noah to get close to you to find out any information you might have had. What it was that he was hoping to find, I’m not entirely sure yet.”
In all this, my sister has listened quietly, and I’m certain none of this is news to her.
“I don’t understand what reason James would have to want someone to get close to me. He basically taunted me with the knowledge that he knew who killed my mum, so it can’t have been that. Although that does mean that your theory of Rogers working with James isn’t so ridiculous. The bigger question is how and why?”
“There might be something at mine that can give us more answers on that. Once I hear back from Smithy, I will collect them. In the meantime, Maddox, do you want to tell us what happened with the shooter?”
He scowls, and grunts low in his chest before answering, “I followed him hoping he would lead me to whoever sent him, but he didn’t, so Bowser and I took him for a little drive. But he wasn’t the shooter, Kavanagh, just a fucking decoy. Whoever the real shooter was obviously didn’t want him talking because they followed us and then took him out before we could get much.”
“And the target?” I ask, needing to know how much danger my sister is in. I remember hearing her and Kavanagh discussing it after I passed out at seeing her for the first time.
“We don’t know for sure. This guy, Calvin, said that Kavanagh’s property wasn’t the only one that had someone watching it. The person who took him out was a pro, so if he was the same person that shot Roxanne then something went wrong because a guy like that wouldn’t miss.”
Kavanagh’s phone pings, and after checking it, he rises to his feet. “I need to go. When I return, we will discuss this further. There are many things that we still need to work out.”
“Star—”
“She stays,” I blurt out, my tone abrasive and forceful.
Kavanagh’s brows raise and then he smiles. “I was going to suggest the same thing, Roxy. I’m happy that she’ll be safe here.”
“I’m so glad that our house meets your approval.” Maddox snarks in response.
“I think I’ve had enough of you all talking about me like I’m not here, so I’m just going to go back to my room—Roxy’s room.”
I look to my sister, and she looks tired. “Star, it’s your room now for as long as you want it.”
“Thanks,” she offers with a half-smile before she turns and leaves the room
“She okay?” Maddox asks shortly as he watches her stride away.
Kavanagh dips his head but doesn’t answer and follows in her wake, heading out the front door without another word.
“I’ll go and check on her. What’s going on?”
We spend the next thirty minutes catching each other up on everything we haven’t had chance to talk about or say because of other people being around.
Maddox and Zak head out to go and chase up the lead on the warehouse they hired where Sammy Evans’ body was left for them and look for Rocky. I hope that their suspicions are wrong about Rocky and Bowser. After Axel, finding out you could have a second, possibly third, traitor in your inner circle is not going to have a happy ending, least of all for the traitor themselves. And to be honest, Maddox and Zak would need to get in line behind me.
The new me is feeling liberated but also a little restless. She feels like she needs something she can get her claws and teeth into, sitting around and talking but not doing much isn’t what this Roxy is about. She’s a tad more…stabby than the Roxy of old.
Don’t get me wrong, the old me would never be walked over, never be manipulated or coerced and she loved to make those that deserved it suffer a little at her hands if needed. How else do you think she got where she did. But she would never actively seek someone out for revenge or to hurt them without provocation. More than anything her role as a policewoman prevented her from doing that, acting without consequence or care. But that role is gone and so has she.
Now there is nothing standing in the way of me delivering the retribution that is deserved, the justice for my mother, for Star and even for Maddox and Zak.
I think back to the day I saw Zak torturing Axel in the cellar and how much I got off on it. At the time it disgusted me that I could feel anything but revulsion for such an act as that, but now, I understand that it’s not because there is anything wrong with me but more because Axel hurt Maddox and Zak. A part of me clearly felt that Zak’s punishment was justified. And just as Maddox said last night, when you love someone, you’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. That doesn’t mean I’ve lost all sense of reason though. I’m certainly not going to go on an all-out killing spree. Doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun though.
