Page 28 of Quentin
It took forever. Speeding up the footage, slowing it down, checking every strange blip on the screen and realizing that half of them were moths. Finally, they reached the spot where Silas entered the bar.
“Son of a bitch,” Quentin said. “There he is, bold as brass.”
Lowey felt sick watching it, seeing him rifling through the items behind the bar looking for the gun. When he had it in hand, he left the bar. They fast forwarded through the footage until he appeared on the screen again, placing the gun back in its normal spot.
“He killed Joey,” she said slowly, stunned by what she’d just seen. “He really did, and he’s going to try and burn me for it.”
“Yes, he did. Email that to me and email it to my lawyer.” He gave her the email addresses and then called Clayton, giving him the rundown of everything they’d found. After that, he texted the info to Ciaran.
“This stays between us and my brothers,” he said. “We can’t afford to let Silas know we have this until we’re ready touse it. Silas is dangerous, Lowey. If he knew you had this—I don’t know what he might do.”
“I do,” she said. “If he’d shoot Joey, he’d do that to me or worse, all without batting an eye. I don’t want to go to jail, but I kinda don’t want to die either.”
Quentin stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. It was bad enough when he just thought Silas wanted to make her life hell, but the idea of her being in real danger, and from someone who wasn’t just a fuck-up like Joey, terrified him.
“I’m not letting anything happen to you,” he promised. “I’m not letting you go. Not for any reason, not ever.”
“Quentin, you have gotten sucked into a huge mess…my mess. You’re making all these grand statements because you’re feeling heroic, but that’s not who we are. I’m not a damsel in distress. I can handle this.”
He laughed at that. “I know you’re not, Lowey. I never thought you were. But just because you can handle it doesn’t mean you should have to handle it alone. As for heroic…no. I’m not feeling heroic. I’m fucking terrified.”
“What the hell are you scared of? I’m the one Silas wants dead or in prison!”
He went quiet, thinking about what he needed to say to her. “I’m scared of losing you. I can’t lose anything or anyone else in my life, Lowey…but especially not you. So just let me help you with this.”
“I don’t understand you, Quentin. Not at all. What happened that you’re suddenly this guy?”
“What guy?”
Her head fell back as she sighed with frustration. “Thisguy—the one who talks about his feelings, who admits that he actually has feelings! Where the hell did this come from?”
“It isn’t that I don’t have feelings. God, could this conversation make me sound like more of a pussy?” he asked. He hated these kinds of conversations. They were the primary reason that he typically avoided relationships. But avoiding one with Lowey wasn’t an option. She was as necessary to him as breathing. So, if that meant he had to talk like they were on a damned episode of Dr. Phil, he would.
“Talk to me, dammit,” she snapped.
“I don’t let many people in. I never intended to let you in.” The admission was uttered softly, but with complete conviction. It was true. He’d thought for the longest time that he could just have fun with her, just indulge his rather healthy lust for her, and then move on, like he had with so many otherwomen in his life. But she drew him in, maybe because she was so much like him. Their backgrounds couldn’t have been more different, but the way they approached the world, the way they guarded themselves, it was the same. And he’d needed to know what her secrets were, he’d needed to know why she protected herself so fiercely. That had been his first clue that she was different and that somehow, he would be different with her. “But it happened. And now that you’re there, I’m not letting go, not now, not ever. I will do anything—whatever it fucking takes—to keep you safe and to keep you mine.”
“So what do we do now?” she asked. “I don’t know how to be this way with you, Quentin. I’ve spent so much time trying to pretend that this was nothing more than sex, mostly because I was terrified that any hint of emotion would send you running for the hills.”
“The only running I plan to do is whatever it takes to catch you,” he promised. “But first we need to get Matt Crawford out here.”
“He’s a Lexington cop. What’s he going to do?”
“Put us in touch with someone at the state level who we can trust,” he answered. “Silas is a son of a bitch, but he’s not without allies. We’ve got to be careful with this thing.”
“So how do we get in touch with him? I know he moves in your circle, but he doesn’t really move in mine.”
“Ciaran is sending him out…to the house. I think the best bet for us is to be where there are witnesses. Silas can’t take out the whole Darcy clan without raising a shit ton of questions, but he could take out the two of us without giving it that much thought. You resisted arrest, and I interfered with the intent to harm an officer of the law…yes, it would be suspicious, but not entirely unbelievable.”
She shook her head. “I miss the days of thinking Joey was the only member of the Barnes family who actually wanted to see me dead.”
Nineteen
Sitting in his office, feet propped up on his desk, the other deputies gone home for the night, Silas was having second thoughts. Not about the necessity of killing Joey. On that score, he was absolutely certain. But the way he’d done it had left too many loose ends. It would have been better to stage a murder-suicide—kill Lowey, set the scene to make Joey look guilty, and then stage his suicide.
He was feeling nervous and unsettled. It was a new feeling for him, and he didn’t like it. Killing herandQuentin Darcy would be too suspicious. So, he was stuck. What to do now? What would be the best way to get out of this mess?
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Ciaran Darcy walked into his office. Yeah, he was stuck. Shit. That son of a bitch wouldn’t be here otherwise. Silas glared at him, but the bastard just smiled at him.
