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“It’s over, Mav. Done. We need to look forward, not back.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean it’s right.”
“Reid hasn’t touched me,” I say before risking a glance at him. I find his brow quirked. “He hasn’t. Not really.”
Mav’s teeth grind and his jaw pops but he doesn’t say anything.
I cycle through the other cells, making Mav move closer to the screen every time we find one that’s occupied.
“Holy shit,” he suddenly gasps. “Is that—”
“Not important,” I say, barely sparing the prisoner a second glance. “We need to find them, not the assholes Reid has locked up like pets.”
Mav doesn’t disagree, but I can see his mind is turning at a mile a minute when I glance over again.
“Bingo,” he says eventually when the kitchen, or more importantly, the men appear on the screen.
They’re sitting on the couches with coffees on the table between them. Reid and JD on one side and Victor on the other.
I wonder if he has any idea that the coffee table is like a battle line between them.
My eyes linger on Victor. He’s sitting back, resting against the couch with his thighs spread wide and his arms laying across the back of the cushion as if he has no worries in the world.
How nice it must be to be so apathetic about what’s happening around him.
Daily, people die in Harrow Creek because of him. The whores on the street, risk their lives with every John they agree to let inside their bodies just to scrape enough cash to pay Victor their dues and keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. The addicts who shoot up too much and put an end to their miserable lives that are only so shitty because of one man. The kids who’ve lost fathers because they believed that to be respected in this town, you had to become a Hawk and be one of Victor’s little minions.
And yet he sits there like the fucking king of the world, not giving two shits about anyone but himself.
He doesn’t even care about his kids, not really. All he wants are five boys who are willing to continue his legacy, no matter how much it breaks them in the process.
“You need to get the audio working, this is fucking pointless otherwise,” Mav barks, his irritation about being left out of this getting the better of him. “Shit,” he hisses before wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. This is just—”
“I know. It’s okay.” Grabbing the other remote, I figure out how to get the volume up.
Both of us step closer as if we’re equally as scared as each other to put it high enough to alert those downstairs that there are people up here.
“Razor has business that needs attending to. Mav needs to sort himself out and get back to work. What fucking pussy runs away because his wife doesn’t want him anymore?”
Mav’s muscles lock up, his grip on me almost too tight as he listens to Victor talk about him.
“I’m sure it’s nothing that Razor or one of his boys can’t handle. Mav obviously needed a few days to get his head back in the game,” Reid explains.
Victor’s eyes widen suspiciously.
“Shit,” Mav hisses. “He’s being too nice. Victor will see right through him.”
I want to argue, but I can’t. I might never have seen the way Reid and Mav react to each other at work, but I can’t imagine they offer each other too much compassion, even on a good day.
“If he’s not interested in the life he was born into then we have plenty of others who can take his place. That’s all I’m saying,” Victor says, a dark warning in his tone.
Anger surges through my veins at the flippant way he’s willing to cast one of his most loyal soldiers aside because he’s got a broken heart.
Maybe it shouldn’t be such a surprise, it’s not like Victor has a heart. Just a dark, rotten soul.
They continue talking business. It’s dull as shit, but while my mind wanders, Mav is focused, absorbing every single word as if Victor is talking in some kind of secret code that only he understands.All the while, I keep my eyes glued on him, watching every time he glances away from Reid in favor of looking around the room.
What is he looking for? Evidence?
