Page 69 of Unmask
“And if I’m sharing, so are you,” I finished, turning the tables. “I don’t spill and tell for free. No more secrets.”
No one jumped at the chance to agree to my terms. I wasn’t exactly in a position to negotiate, outnumbered four to one with a loaded weapon within arm’s reach of their leader, but that didn’t stop me from trying.
Finally, Brock’s head moved in a slight nod. The motion was reluctant, like it physically pained him to make the concession. “If it means we get Kenny back sooner, fine. A temporary truceseems manageable.” He leaned forward slightly, those piercing aqua eyes fixing on mine with laser focus. In the dimly lit kitchen, they seemed to glow with an otherworldly intensity. The gun remained on the countertop between us, a silent reminder of the power dynamic at play. “You have a suspect?” he asked, his voice carrying traces of authority that made people confess to crimes they hadn’t committed. “Someone you think is behind this?”
I hesitated.
It was one thing to talk strategy with my brothers and quite another to give away what might be my ace. But this was different. This was the Elite. Kaylor’s family.
How much could I trust them? The question gnawed at me as I studied their faces. Any one of them could tip off our suspect, intentionally or otherwise. Information was currency in our world, and once I spent it, there was no getting it back.
My gaze drifted toward the hallway that led to the stairs, toward the room where Kaylor was sleeping. Safe. Protected because Brock had put everything on the line to make it so. When it came to her, he’d already proven he’d sacrifice whatever was necessary.
He wasn’t the only one.
So would I.
“I’ve got a name,” I said, eyes locking with Brock’s. “But it’s not confirmed.”
“Let’s hear it.” Micah set his beer down with a soft clink.
I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. “Rusty.” Not an ounce of shock rippled through the room, and it justified my suspicions. “You already suspected he might be more involved,” I concluded.
Brock’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “We learned long ago that no one is who they portray themselves to be.”
Fynn stepped forward, his movements fluid and predatory. He’d been the quietest of the group, but now his attention was laser focused, which in my experience made him someone I shouldn’t underestimate. “What makes you think he’s involved?”
I shrugged. “Call it a hunch.”
Grayson scoffed. “You expect us to go on a hunch?”
I pushed off the counter, straightening to my full height. The marble was cold against my palms as I gripped the edge. “Believe what you want, but I don’t trust him. Not with Kaylor. Someone betrayed her father, and my money is on the best friend. If I had to guess, her father discovered Rusty’s side business, and he was using club resources to fund it.”
“You have any proof?” Brock asked.
“Not yet, but I’m working on it. Why don’tyoutrust him?” I threw the question back at them, curious if they had anything more substantial than intuition and doubt. The way they’d reacted, or hadn’t reacted, to Rusty’s name told me there was history there.
“Rusty and my uncle might have been friends, but I remember there being tension between them a few times at gatherings. Kaylor doesn’t know this. I never told her, but at their crew parties, I saw Rusty make a move on her mom. He might have been drunk, but it was no excuse. She made it clear she wasn’t interested, and let’s say he got a little forceful until he saw me. I have no respect for someone who disrespects his friend by hitting on his wife, especially in the way Rusty did. It rubbed me wrong. To this day, I don’t know if she ever told my uncle what Rusty did.”
I agreed with Brock, and what he was telling me only backed up my suspicion of Rusty’s character. He wasn’t a nice guy and was just like someone my father would recruit. The pieces wereslowly fitting into place. “We need to put a tail on him. Someone skilled enough that Rusty won’t notice.”
His aqua eyes glinted with what might have been anticipation as he exchanged a quick glance with Micah. “We know someone,” he said, his voice carrying the quiet confidence of someone who’d already thought three steps ahead. “Consider it handled.”
Brock’s eyes narrowed to slits, the muscle in his cheek twitched once, twice, before he leaned forward across the counter. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
I ran a hand through my hair, buying myself a moment to choose my words carefully. “Because the second I point a finger without solid proof, the Vipers start sniffing around for answers. They’ll want to know how I know, who told me, what evidence exists. And if I’m wrong about Rusty… Kaylor’s the one who pays the price for my mistake.”
No one argued with that.
“We don’t have to trust each other, but if we want to take him down, we need to work together,” Brock said.
Micah rolled his shoulders, working out tension that had been building since this conversation started. “Can we do that without killing each other?”
“You’re the one with the gun,” I reminded.
Grayson’s expression twisted into a snarl. “As if you don’t have one stashed in the house or a knife in your pocket.”
My lips curved. “Touché.”
