Page 13 of Blind Justice

The phone clicked twice more before Asher muttered, “Shit better be good. Interrupted the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while.”

“Sorry. But, it’s bad.” He tried his best to organize his thoughts, even though the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

“Why do I have the feeling this involves Raul?”

“Wow, you’re really good at this.” Duncan chuckled. “I received an interesting phone call on the way home from the club. Do you know an FBI agent by the name of Laura Pratt?”

“Can’t say I do, but I’m assuming she knows you?”

“Yeah, she knew Thomas and I have been working different cartel cases over the years. Anyway, she gave me a heads up. Raul’s on the move. He’s been spotted in Arizona and California.”

“Great,” Asher answered, “but why couldn’t this have waited until morning?”

“Well, the agents on his tail lost him. When they found sign of him again, Naomi Duran-Suarez was dead, and Ignacio was missing, presumed dead.”

“Fuck me,” Asher muttered. “Do they have an estimation on time of death?”

“From what I could gather from Laura, pretty recent. She’s sending me the file in the morning. I’ll have more information to present to you then. Unfortunately, it appears the asshole is killing anyone associated with him or those who might harbor anyone from the Nieto Cartel.”

“Interesting. He never gets his hands dirty. Raul always had someone else doing it for him.” A door closed on Asher’s end. “How bad was it?”

“I’m not sure. Laura said there’s enough blood on the floor for them to believe Ignacio couldn’t have survived. However, he fought back.”

“Get the file and be ready for a video conference at 1100 hours.”

“On it. Also, I can move Enzo and Bella tomorrow night. Trixie has agreed to allow them at Club X as long as I stay with them.” He pulled at his tie, loosening the knot. His temples ached, and if the pounding behind his eyes were any indication, he only had fifteen minutes before a rager of a migraine descended—a side effect from a severe concussion he suffered the day he was arrested.

“Well, there’s a silver lining to all of this bullshit. Get some sleep, and we’ll speak tomorrow.”

Before Asher could hang up on him, Duncan asked, “Hey, just out of curiosity, did you send someone to cover my ass?”

“Cover you?” Confusion filled Asher’s tone. “No. Why?”

“Nah, nothing. It’s probably me. I’m getting a headache, so it’s possibly that.”

“Don’t blow it off. Not while we’re dealing with this shit. Look, if Raul has killed Bella and Enzo’s parents, he’s coming your way. I’m sending you back up. I have the perfect guy for this mission. His name is Omar Pershing. He’s ex-special forces and chomping at the bit for a little action. He’ll be there in the morning,” Asher replied. “If you think you’re being followed, you probably are.”

“Fuck...” He didn’t need this. Not now.

“Hit the bunks and call me in the morning when Omar arrives.”

Asher hung up and, like Thomas, didn’t bother with a goodbye or a kiss my ass. Duncan pushed out of the SCIF and went straight for his bathroom. He was fucked if he didn’t get his Imitrex injection. He flipped on the light in his bathroom and instantly regretted it. The light added to the pounding pain intensifying by the second. By the time he grabbed the package out of his medicine cabinet, his hands were shaking, and his stomach churned in discontent. He injected the meds and headed back into his room.

Duncan left a trail of clothes behind him as he stumbled to his bed and crawled in.What a fucking way to end a miserable fucking night.Though it wasn’t all bad, the last hour had gone to shit. Not only did he have to tell Bella and Enzo their mother was murdered, but he’d have to tell them about their father as well. He hated death notifications. He’d been to a few with Thomas, and it made him realize how other families must have felt when his da’s handiwork killed their loved ones.

There’d been days the guilt gnawed at Duncan. He wondered if Thomas had dragged him to those notifications on purpose. In the beginning, he’d been young, dumb, and full of cum. Duncan hadn’t given a shit about anything. His da’s work was righteous.Liberation, boyo. Can you smell it?Why the memory entered Duncan’s brain while he drifted on a blanket of pain and oblivion, he didn’t know. Maybe Laura’s phone call shook him bad enough to reevaluate himself.Look at them all. They’re like trapped rats, scurrying for safety.

He was so stupid. The crushing agony in his skull flared as Duncan tensed. At the time, he thought what his father was doing had been right. Life wasn’t worth living if it meant being under the Queen’s thumb. Northern Ireland deserved to be free. Duncan had been groomed from the time he could toddle to take over for his da, until he’d been caught. And, what had his loyalty gotten him? A twenty-year prison sentence and sent over three thousand miles away from home. The one question the Director of the FBI asked repeated in his head over the years.Was it worth it?

No. Looking back, he wished he could have done everything differently.

As the pain ebbed, he let out a shuddering breath and drifted off. What he’d wanted and what his father wanted didn’t matter anymore, because his life had taken a drastic turn to the left, and he couldn’t go back.

The next morning,he woke up to the smell of bacon frying and the bite of fresh coffee. His stomach rumbled in appreciation. Duncan laid there for a moment more, waiting for the pain in his head to register with his sluggish body. When it didn’t, he sat up. He took stock of his room and muttered a curse. He’d been frazzled by Laura’s phone call and the fact he’d not only skipped dinner but had also shared a drink with Thomas on said empty stomach—it’d been a perfect storm for his migraines.

Duncan ambled out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. He knew he’d have to be ready for the meeting within the hour, which meant he had less time to prepare Enzo and Bella. He hurried through his shower then got dressed. When he stepped back into his room, he could hear the melodic beat of music coming from the kitchen. It was truly strange having someone else in his home. Usually, the apartment was quiet until he turned on the television, and more often than not, he threw it on for the background noise. He dressed comfortably in a pair of grey sweats and a white ribbed tank before heading into the kitchen.

Enzo stood at the stove while Bella sat at the table. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, and she had on a red silk robe and a paperback book in her hands. The lapel of her robe slipped open slightly, giving him the first glimpse of the rose and vine tattoo along with the valley between her breasts. Duncan’s mouth watered. Though Enzo appeared small when dressed in his baggy clothes, he had a good physique, muscular, but not outrageously so. His back was covered in several tattoos along with his neck, and when he turned toward the table. Duncan took a moment to appreciate Enzo’s toned abs and tapered waist. There were other tattoos as well, but the gang ones reminded Duncan why they were there and once more reiterated why both Bella and Enzo were off-limits.

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