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"Now what?" I asked.
"Now we wait for him." Aiden's voice was cold, and he glanced over at me before saying, "Pull yourself together. It's not like he murderedyourmom."
"Don't be a dick," I warned him. "Your pragmatism makes you a real asshole sometimes."
He shrugged. "It's a strength."
"Not always."
We brought the car around and waited for Quincy to leave.
As soon as he stepped out of the bar, we burst into motion.
He didn't manage to reach his car before we jumped him. Aiden clocked him in the jaw, and I grabbed his arms to keep him from swinging back. With some effort, we managed to drag him into the car and drive off before anyone noticed what was happening.
We drove a few miles away from the bar to an abandoned warehouse that we sometimes used for other business dealings. It held good memories for me after distracting Selena from her worries, and I was a little disappointed that Quincy and some bloodshed might override those memories.
But I was pretty excited about thebloodshedpart.
As soon as we pulled Quincy out of the car, he started begging us not to hurt him. Quincy was clearly terrified. He knew what was going to happen next, but he had no way to escape it.
We threw him down onto a chair in the middle of the room, and Aiden stood over him like a silent executioner. I watched as Aiden began questioning Quincy about Selena's parents' murder, his voice low and menacing.
Quincy tried to deny any knowledge or involvement until Aiden leaned forward with a knife in his hand, ready to make good on his threats.
"Aiden please," he begged. "You've known me since you were a kid--"
"That means I've had twenty-odd years of not liking you," Aiden said coolly. "Tell me who hired you to kill the Harts, and why."
"I didn't do anything, I swear."
Aiden clocked him across the jaw.
I watched as Quincy's head rocked back. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he straightened, gasping, begging for mercy.
Then I said to Aiden, "I can tell you don't go to the gym much anymore."
Aiden threw me a look. "Fine, you ask him."
The two of us took turns working him over.
I didn't think I could be any angrier.
"I still don't remember," Quincy said.
I snapped. In the blink of an eye, I was on him, and my hands were around his neck.
"Who killed them?" I asked, my voice low and calm.
"I don't—"
I slammed him against the ground, not caring if I hurt him.
"Who?"
"It was Patrick Foss!" he wailed in terror. “He hired me! I never met the guy who assigned the original job, I didn’t ask questions!”
Another lowlife with shifting loyalties. Fuck. We'd gotten nowhere. Foss had worked for both Gavin and Aster at different points over the last few years before finally throwing his lot in completely with Aster.
