Page 21 of Beautiful Soldier

“We figured as much,” Mag says, his tone biting.

“But you weren’t sure.”

“How do you know?”

“Hearing things,” he shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll find Gregory’s calling card in the recruit’s pocket. He wants you to know it was him. He wants you to know he’s not going away as easily as you’d like. He’s also actively recruiting in your area, so be careful. The Heights Crew has always had a lot of supporters, but they also have people who hate them. Right?”

He eyes Mag, and it might seem like he’s just asking a question, but it looks like a hell of a lot more than that, too. Since he defected, he’s probably talking about himself and others like him. I know more than anyone how people can end up hating the Heights Crew. Even Farmingham’s dead body on the couch is proof of that. How will his family react? Will they hate the people who did it? Or blame the Crew because they’re the linking piece?

“I want to help,” Cole says. “You know why I left.”

But I don’t, and I’m sensing that’s a major part of the story that I’m missing. “And why’s that?”

Cole goes to answer, but Mag shuts that shit down. “Is that all you’ve got for us?”

“For now.”

Mag lifts the gun in his hands again, lining up his shot. His finger steadies over the trigger, and Cole pales.

I take in a steady breath, wondering if Mag is actually going to do it. His own cousin. “Just get out of here,” he says, eventually.

He trains the gun on him the whole time he walks toward the door. Cole stops briefly before addressing Brawler. “Don’t get involved in Crew shit, Mack. Your brother wouldn’t have wanted that for you.” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns and walks away.

We wait, his footsteps thudding down the stairs until the bang of the exterior door sounds, signaling his retreat from the warehouse.

Magnum finally puts his firearm away, sticking it back in the waistband of his black tactical pants. He moves forward, patting down Farmingham’s pockets. In his front right, Mag sneaks his hand in and pulls out something. He peers into his palm, shaking his head. He turns, and Brawler and I slide closer.

“Seriously?” My brows raise. “Fucking Runts?” A small package of Runts candy lies in the middle of my badass bodyguard’s palm like some cosmic joke.

“Our intel said Candy’s was more his than Dunnegan’s.”

“But his calling card is fucking Runts?” I can’t tell if I should laugh my ass off or be impressed that a bad guy is willing to use such an inferior candy as his calling card. Like, what the fuck do we do with that? I mean, he could’ve used Skittles if he was going for something sweet. Or better yet, chocolate. Dark chocolate. Dark chocolate with nuts. That’s a hell of a lot more sinister than candy shaped like fruit.

Brawler doesn’t say anything to this, and upon closer inspection, he’s retreated inside himself. Mag looks at him warily. “You okay?”

The dark angel wings on his neck catch my attention. They’re for his brother, and I’m sure that’s who he’s thinking about right now. He gives himself a shake. “Fine. I just didn’t expect to run into someone from the past today.”

Mag moves over, placing his arm on Brawler’s shoulder. “We can’t trust Cole.” He locks gazes with me. “I don’t care what he says. Yes, he knew your brother, and he was friends with Johnny, but we’re not trusting him. Okay?”

“What happened to him?” Brawler asks.

Mag drops his hand. “He left after your brother died. Defected. No one’s heard from him since, but there are rumors he hooked up with another gang. I wouldn’t be surprised. I saw the hint of a fire tattoo on his neck.”

I’m almost afraid to ask. “And that is?”

“Not from around here,” Magnum answers as he glares down at what’s left of Farmingham. “But there’s a gang in the tri-state area called the Dragons.”

Fire. Dragons. It makes sense. I peek up at him. “How much trouble are you going to be in because you didn’t kill him?”

“We keep this to ourselves for now,” Mag says, eyeing us both. “We’ll tell K we found Gregory’s calling card ourselves, which I would’ve. I don’t trust the fact that he showed up here, regardless of what he’s said.”

Mag is thorough. He didn’t need to be told to check Farmingham’s pockets. The only thing Cole succeeded in doing was popping up out of nowhere as if he was trying to throw us off. Or offer help. He knew Magnum would show up at the scene and used the opportunity to talk to him. The reasoning behind it is the only thing that remains in the dark.

Whatever his reasonings, I’m with Mag. We hold him at arm’s length if he decides to show up again with vague answers. I don’t care about his history with the Crew or my guys.

“I’ll call in our cleanup team,” Mag says.

I drift my gaze back to Farmingham’s dead body as Mag moves to the side of the room, bringing his phone to his ear.

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