Page 91 of Wild Night

Hazzard is on the floor. She’s slit her wrists with what appears to be a fucking letter opener. Maverick and Goose are close behind us, and before we can tell them to keep Barry out of the room, the man flies forward and lands hard on his knees beside his dead sister.

Nobody speaks. I’m quite sure there aren’t even words to be said at this point. We stare in silence while Barry holds Hazzard’s body in his arms. She’s limp and pale, the pool of blood thick and heavy around them.

Even though these two betrayed us in an unforgivable way, we give them this moment. We give the brother a moment with his sister. To grieve. We’re assholes, but we are not monsters.

Bullet jerks his chin, then drops it toward the two on the floor, signaling that this is done. I watch as Maverick and Goose move toward them, taking Hazzard’s body from Barry’s hands. He doesn’t fight them, likely in shock from what is happening.

Barry Scott stays seated on the floor, his ass in blood, his hands, clothes, and arms covered in it as well. It doesn’t matter. He’ll be dead, too, before this is done. And as his gaze lifts and his eyes meet mine, he knows it, and judging by the expression of calm and peace, he’s good with that.

“Who helped you break into my office and hack into my computer system?” I demand.

I don’t shout or yell. My tone is even, my voice low. This man is defeated enough. He doesn’t need me or anyone else screaming in his face. He lifts his gaze from his bloodstained hands to look at me.

“It was me,” he rasps.

I don’t believe him. Shaking my head slowly, I clear my throat. “No, it wasn’t,” I whisper. “And you know it.”

He nods a couple of times while his eyes search mine, the shock beginning to wear off. Then he shakes his head and closes his eyes before he opens them slowly. His angry gaze meets mine, and I realize he’s no longer shocked at what he’s seeing, at the death of his sister. He’s now pissed off.

Making a tsking noise, I shake my head. “Don’t even fucking think about whatever has popped into your head, Scott,” I grind out. “You fucked us. What Hazzard did was on her, had nothing to do with us, but you used her to get to us, and she knew it was wrong. She knew she would be excommunicated. Couldn’t live with that, I guess. What I want to know is who the fuck helped you.”

Silence.

He’s not strong enough, smart enough. He doesn’t have enough finesse to keep it from me for long. The minute I break a finger, he’ll squeal like the weak pig he is. Crouching down in front of him, I focus on him, tilting my head to the side.

“I fucking hate you,” he grinds out.

“Why?” I ask.

He shakes his head, then clears his throat before he lets out a growl. A long growl. It almost sounds as if he’s possessed, but I know he’s just trying to show off. He’s attempting to appear strong, as if he is an alpha of any kind. He’s not. I stare at him, letting him do his thing, knowing it won’t end well for him, no matter fucking what.

“Those people didn’t need that fucking money. They are greedy fucks. They didn’t need that money. They didn’t need that fucking money.”

“Who fucked with my surveillance system? Who the fuck helped you?” I demand, matching his growl with a deeper one.

He watches me, his body trembling—great, more shock. I’m about to end this shit and then go to my woman and get lost inside of her body. I’m exhausted. I didn’t picture this afternoon going quiet this way, and I’m ready for some sleep… well, a good fuck and some sleep.

“It was my sister,” he rasps finally.

Bullet snorts. “Hazzard could hack into the computer system?”

I don’t believe him, and neither does Bullet. But something niggles at the back of my mind. She showed up at my place. She had no fucking way of knowing where I lived. I keep my life very separate from the club.

A couple of the guys have been to my place, but that’s all. I’ve never had any parties, and I’m not listed anywhere. I’ve eventried Googling myself a few times to see if I could find it, but it’s not there. Everything is under my business address—everything.

“Yes,” I answer.

Turning my head, I straighten my legs and look at Bullet. “She came to my place a few weeks ago. I was so fucking drunk, I didn’t realize it. But she knew where I lived.”

Bullet’s brows rise. He knows how I’ve kept my life here away from my professional one. While most of my clients are in their own hot water of illegal dealings, they don’t want to know their attorney is doing the same shit.

I’m not sure what the fuck is going on here, but Barry Scott is a dead man. He’s breathing, but he’s fucking dead at the same time. My brows snap together. Something bothers me about this.

Hazzard wasn’t stupid, but I don’t think she was smart enough to hack into my computer. Inhaling a deep breath, I hold it for a moment, then let it out slowly. Something isn’t sitting right with me, but I don’t know how to get to the bottom of it. There may never be a bottom to it.

Instead of arguing, instead of demanding, I know it’s time for him to go, so I give the signal to end it. I’m too fucked up to do it myself. My broken arm, my pounding fucking head. As much as I want to completely fucking torture this fuck, I’m exhausted.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

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