Page 15 of Blind Justice

“Where is my father?” Enzo snapped, drawing Duncan’s attention. Fury and sorrow filled Enzo’s features. The crack in his facade had been startling. Under all the vibrato and the macho bullshit, Duncan saw a vulnerable man.

“According to the agent called to the scene, there was a fight in the house. There’s enough blood...” Duncan cleared his throat. “Your father wasn’t found there.”

Bella screamed, crumbling into a fit of uncontrollable sobs. Duncan didn’t move. Instead, he sat at the table and continued with his breakfast, shutting down. Enzo rushed to his sister’s side to gather her into his arms. Duncan’s lack of reaction might make him look like a heartless fuck, but it’d been part of the disconnection training his father taught him all those years ago. He couldn’t care for all of the people in his life, so he picked and chose who to mourn.

To makeeveryone’s life easier, Thomas joined him at the apartment instead of returning to the base for the eleven o’clock meeting with Asher and their team. Duncan handed Thomas the file Pratt sent him while he finished cleaning up after breakfast. He’d already forwarded it to Asher the minute it hit Duncan’s inbox.

Enzo had taken Bella into her bedroom. He could hear her soft sobs as Enzo continued to comfort her. He was a son of a bitch. He’d learned at a young age to flip the switch and turn off his emotions. It kept him sane and his father off his ass. It also stunted him. He didn’t have regular relationships and didn’t necessarily have friends either, besides Thomas. He could play the part of concerned Dom or FBI Agent/Consultant because they were pretend, but that was as deep as he went. Breaking through the ice or glass or whatever a therapist would call it didn’t seem possible for him. So, he relied on his conditioning. He’d finished eating and took his plate to the sink, all while blocking out Bella’s gut-wrenching sobs. Some days he wondered if he was even human anymore.

“You okay?” Thomas asked, studying him.

He shrugged. It was a loaded question. Because of the life he lived, his past, and now his future, he’d never be okay. “Had a migraine last night.”

His partner nodded. The first time he puked his guts up in front of Thomas while trying to inject himself, he’d been so delirious. Thomas rushed him to the emergency room, delaying Duncan’s relief. It was only after the fog of his migraine cleared that he’d chewed Thomas out for leaving him in excruciating pain for so long. “Figured. You always have this dazed and stupid look the morning after.”

Duncan smirked. “It’s the meds. They knock me on my ass. Better than suffering in pain.” He glanced at the closed bedroom door. “Better than what they’re going through anyway.” Truth be told, he felt bad for Enzo. He too had lost his parents, but his focus and concern was solely on his sister. Duncan hadn’t missed the devastation in Enzo’s brown eyes as he picked Bella up, carrying her to their bedroom.

“Might have to consider sedating her,” Thomas said while reading the file.

Duncan had the same thought. Grief was a bastard of an emotion. It could send someone spiraling in two different directions. Either Bella would succumb to such a deep depression she’d lose herself or she’d go on a rampage, seeking vengeance for what Raul did to her family. The second, more dangerous of the two, would put their whole operation at risk. They couldn’t chance it. “I—”

A knock came at the door, drawing Duncan from the conversation he’d been having with Thomas. Enzo had said Omar had shown up earlier. When he glanced at the clock, he noticed the time. The meeting would be starting shortly. He went to the door and opened it. Duncan had seen Omar once or twice when he’d been at R.O.O.T.’s base, but they’d never spoken. If he’d had to describe him with one word, it’d be intense.

Omar was built like the former wrestler, now turned actor, who seemed to be featured in every re-booted movie being made. Several inches taller than Duncan, Omar had wide, muscular shoulders and arms. His broad chest narrowed to a trim waist and gave way to thighs like tree trunks. He looked like a quintessential military man, sporting dark cargo pants and a tight t-shirt with the seams straining to hold the material together over his fit body. His high and tight black hair and piercing blue eyes finished off the look.

“Duncan. Thomas,” Omar said, stepping into their apartment.

Thomas nodded while he held his hand out. “Omar.”

The man took Thomas’s hand and gave exactly three pumps while holding Thomas’s gaze hostage. Dude was strong as hell. He was the perfect person to have at Duncan’s back in a gun, or hell, even a knife fight.

“The Commander told me he’d scheduled a video conference this morning and to get my ass here for it.” Omar folded his hands behind his back. “I’ve been checking out our surroundings and giving each of your vehicles a onceover.” He pinned Thomas with a glare. “Where are your partners?”

“Hotel. Sleeping, I believe,” Thomas answered. “We’re going back to Virginia Beach after the meeting.”

Omar grunted. The dark gravelly sound fit the man’s persona. “Understood. Commander also said Raul is currently going through and removing some loose ends?” He picked up the folder Thomas placed on the table.

If murder meant removing ‘loose ends,’ then he agreed with Asher. “Yes.”

The bedroom door opened, effectively ending their conversation. Enzo entered the living room. The shirt he’d donned at some point was covered in Bella’s tears. Duncan stared at the man. He was shell-shocked, and his brown eyes were empty, his face pale. He looked whipped, not only from caring for his sister but also from the devastating loss of his parents. Duncan refused to allow concern to float to the surface. He had to remain focused.

“How is she?” Thomas hedged.

“Not good.” Enzo threw himself into one of the empty chairs and gave an exhausted sigh.

“How are you?” Thomas went a step further.

Enzo looked up. “Same, although I’d be a helluva lot better off if I knew whether my pops was dead or being tortured by Raul.”

Duncan returned to the task at hand, cleaning up the kitchen. He wasn’t sure why either of them, Bella or Enzo, were shocked by their parent’s murder. People got in bed with drug cartels knowing full well when they displeased their jefe they ran the risk of being killed, along with their families. It was a warning Duncan’s father and his men always gave to the recruits. If they screwed them over, they’d die in the most painful way imaginable. His father had been true to his word too. Duncan had seen his father’s ruthlessness with his own eyes. He exacted maximum damage to prevent anyone from speaking up.

Omar gave Enzo a onceover. “He’s not going to be around during the call with the Commander, is he?”

“We’re not all going to fit in Duncan’s closet,” Thomas stated.

Enzo quirked his brow in confusion. It was such an innocent expression. Had they been in any other situation, Duncan would have laughed. “Thomas is right. My SCIF is too small.”

Omar nodded. “I guess going with my gut had been the right thing to do. I’ve set up some equipment around the perimeter this morning. It’ll block outside interference.” Omar’s gaze landed on Enzo once more. The man had reason to not trust the gangbanger. None of them could, really. “For now, until we move again, we’re safe.”

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