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Two things have gone through my mind while I’ve been sitting here.
Simon could absolutely be telling me the truth. He really does see a link to the last two men from my former life. Two men who betrayed the very first rule in life—you don’t turn your back on your brothers. Simon could be taking me to get my vengeance.
Or…
And this is what has my back feeling the creepy fucking crawlies…
Simon could be taking me to my death.
I haven’t done a thing against the family, but something just doesn’t jive with Simon taking what happened to me so personal.
“Yes,” he answers.
“You leading me to my death?” I ask.
He laughs loudly, and when I open my eyes to look at him I see actual mirth on his normally poised face. “No.”
Pushing myself up in the chair, I watch as Simon tries to contain himself.
I feel myself tensing up as I growl out, “What the fuck is so funny, asshole?”
“If I wanted you dead, Johnathan,” Simon says calmly, “I would have poisoned you when you were eating your peach ice cream last night.”
Pulling my gun from its holster, I aim it at the window behind him. “You’ll be flying out that window, Simon.”
Raising his hands, he laughs again. “Calm down, John. Beth mentioned it to Meredith on the phone last night as they were planning what they wanted to bring to the party.”
Sighing, I put the gun down in my lap. I simply don’t know what to fucking think with this guy. “You’ve hated me since I first stepped foot into Lucifer’s office with a bag of guns in my hand. What the fuck is going on?”
“Hatred may be too harsh of a word.” Simon closes his laptop and gives it a pat. “This is my work laptop.”
“So?”
He motions to the laptop in the backpack. “So, the other laptop was dedicated specifically to this job and removing these two men from your past.”
“It couldn’t be that much information.”
“You’re right, but as I said, this is personal.”
“And I ask why?” I press.
Simon sighs. “I don’t hate you. I may detest your clothing, your beard, hair, bar, general appearance, and the motorcycle oil you always smell like. But hate, no.”
Chuckling, I can see each and every one of those things rubbing him the wrong way. I’m the polar opposite of him. He’s germaphobic, habitually clean-shaven, and looks as if he starches his underwear.
He’s precision and laser-focused.
I’m a steel-toed boot who loves violence.
I nod my head at him. “Beyond the fact that our wives are practically best friends, what’s the real reason? Is it because I took that gut shot back at the airport when we were going for Meredith?”
“Partly, but not really.” He reaches up to rub at the spot where his glasses usually rest on the bridge of his nose, but stops as if he just remembered he’s in contacts.
“Alright, no more mincing words.” Suddenly he stiffens and stares hard into my eyes. “Would you shoot me in the back of the head?”
“What the fuck kind of question is that?”
“Would you kill me without asking a question if Lucifer told you to?”
My instant answer surprises me. “No.”
“Exactly,” he says then motions around us. “All of this could disappear in an instant. Any day now, our power and influence could be reduced to nothing. But loyalty and trust don’t disappear. You may hate me, Johnathan, but you’d never betray me. Your loyalties will always be clear. Charlie and Beth, then the family. I had a lot of time to think about that when you got shot without a second thought while helping rescue Meredith. I saw you whisper Beth’s name to yourself.
Look, the simple fact is this. You ran towards the flying bullets to save my family, as would the rest of the family, but they were not seriously injured like you were. I saw your eyes when you got hurt. They weren’t full of blame at me, just guilt towards not making it back to your family.”
Fuck, if I had known it meant that much to him, I would have probably made some asshole comment at the time. It’s not like I hate the guy… I like him. It’s just fun to get under his skin. He’s also never once backed down from a firefight. Never once been someone I worried about being behind my shoulder when we went into a building.
“If this is some way of repayment—” I start to say but he cuts me off with a shake of his head.
“No. This is pure and simple vengeance. You deserve it, and I can facilitate it for you.”
“So where are these assholes located?”
“A very distant friend has them tracked to a small vacation town in Mexico,” he says with an almost evil grin.
“Vacation?” I ask. “As in family getaway type vacation?”
“Somewhat. It’s happy divorce day for Jake. His second wife has decided she was tired of his philandering ways. She took half of his wealth and the house. Terry, being the cocaine addicted lawyer that he’s been for the past six years, has taken Jake down south to cheer him up.”
