Page 108 of Poisoned Pawn
“Yeah, I’m good thanks, Carter. How—”
“Cut the fucking shit and just tell me where you are,” I demand, cutting Lennox’s sarcasm short.
“I’m at home,” he replies gruffly, but reading my mood well.
“I’ll be there in ten.” I end the call and floor it.
Nine minutes later, I pull into the underground car park again. It’s a little emptier than earlier, and my guess is Lennox sent most of the Shadows home while he cleans house.
Once inside, I pace the lift, willing it to hurry the fuck up as it climbs to the top floor. The lift stops, and as the doors whoosh open, I squeeze through the gap impatiently.
“Lennox?” I call as I stride into the main living area.
“Here,” he says from behind me, and I turn to find him pouring a couple of whiskeys. He doesn’t look up as I approach, simply pushes a glass toward me.
I contemplate it for a moment, then decide it will look better painting the walls of his kitchen. My arm sweeps across the counter, flinging the glasses across the room. They hit the wall, glass shattering and whiskey running like a stream down the wall.
Only I see a river of blood.
Lennox jumps back. “Whoa, what the fuck, Carter!”
I stalk toward him, every muscle in my body locked tight. His eyes scan my face, across my split lip and bloody nose, and he frowns, eyes widening as my intentions become clear.
“Carter,” he says nervously. Not an emotion I’ve ever associated with Lennox before. But then I’ve never had my sights set on him.
“Who is Rook?” I ask.
He looks confused for a second, then stands tall, crossing his arms. “You know I can’t tell you that, Carter,” he says, tone firm.
“Can’t or won’t?” I tilt my head. “Sounds to me like you have something to hide.” I don’t give him time to answer before I’m speaking again. Keeping calm is becoming increasingly difficult. “You told me you knew who Star was when I asked you. And you obviously know who Rook is, and where he came from because you and Harrison did all the recruiting. Right?” He nods, and I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Okay, so that leads me to think you know there’s a link between Rook’s and Star’s pasts?” I pose it like a question, but it’s far from it.
I give him a minute hoping he’ll make the right choice. When it’s obvious he’s not going to tell me, I step into him, almost nose to nose and poke a finger into his chest, I add, “He took her, Lennox. He fucking took her and shot Maddox, so whatever false fucking loyalty you think you owe him, or guilt you’re trying to absolve, fuck that!”
His arms come up quick, knocking my hand away. There’s only one way this is going to go.
I swallow down the betrayal I feel. “That’s how it is, huh? Okay then,” I tell him, and before he can respond, my fist meets hard toned muscle as it connects with his stomach. I follow it with another jab to the right kidney.
His responding left hook to my jaw knocks my head back, sending black dots dancing in my eyes. But I know Lennox. This is not the first time we’ve come to blows.
“I gave you my fucking life,” I snap, ploughing another fist into the centre of his solar plexus. “Sold my fucking soul for you. And this is the fucking thanks I get. Well fuck you, man!” We dance around one another until he gives me an in, then I strike. “Fuck. You!” My words are punctuated with two quick jabs to his face, bone crunching beneath my fist and blood spraying from his nose.
It’s a short won victory as he parries with a couple of kidney jabs that have me wincing, and I barely miss the swinging right hook, stepping back as his fist misses me by an inch and casting a cool whoosh of air over my face.
“It’s complicated,” Lennox grits out between heavy breaths.
“Not fucking complicated, Lennox. The guy killed Harrison. You didn’t hesitate then to terminate him, yet here you fucking are now protecting him. What the fuck gives, man?” I ask, spinning away from him and landing a punch of my own to his left kidney. The hit takes the breath from him, and he stumbles, bent over and holding his side.
I don’t waste a fucking second of his vulnerability, kicking the back of his knee and causing his leg to buckle. He twists awkwardly as he falls, falling to his back and hitting the floor with a heavy thud. I pull the blade sheathed under my trouser leg, slamming a foot down on his chest. The tip of my knife meets the underside of his chin as he tries to sit up.
I raise my brows. “Name. Give me a fucking name, Lennox!”
He drops his head back to the floor with a heavy sigh. “His real name is Ralph Matthews.”
“Wasn’t so fucking hard now, was it? Family?” I ask, pressing my foot down on his chest when he doesn’t answer straight away.
“Father dead. His mother had another family, but she disappeared after their son was murdered.”
“What else? How does he know about Star?” Movement by the door catches my attention, but I keep my eyes on Lennox. I don’t need to look.