Page 75 of Hart of Darkness
He had his arms crisscrossed, blocking his face. “Listen to your girl.”
Maggie grasped my arm, which was ready to deliver another blow. “Baby,” she said in a soft voice.
A stream of goose bumps shot down my arms at her pet name for me, and it seemed to be all I needed to climb off Duke.
When he was upright, he rubbed his jaw then licked the blood off his lip. “Why do you insist that I know where Grace is?”
I walked down the aisle to admire the view of Boston. “The fucking guard downstairs knows Grace. When was she here last? And if you tell me you don’t know, I’m sending you through this window. It’s a mighty drop down from the eighteenth floor.”
He shoved his middle finger in the air before he padded over to the bar tucked between the fireplace and the window.
Maggie whistled. “Nice digs you have here, Duke.” I suspected she was trying to change the subject, even for a minute, to give me time to calm down.
Glasses clinked. “Do I know you?”
Maggie made herself at home by sitting on the plush couch facing the marble fireplace. The penthouse belonged in some home magazine. Expensive art hung on the walls, the furniture was in pristine condition, and the red-and-black kitchen had high-end appliances that I would have loved to have in the shelter. I could steal the restaurant-size fridge right now.
I smoothed a hand over my hair. “Duke, meet Maggie Marx, the reporter from theBoston Eagle.” I didn’t know if Duke would remember Maggie from our teenage years. “Maggie was the girl in the Bloodhounds. Remember?”
He whipped around, a glass of whiskey in hand and horror in his chestnut-brown eyes, making him appear older than his twenty-seven years. Crime did fuck up a person in more ways than one.
I couldn’t tell if he was surprised that Maggie was a reporter or a blast from the past.
Nevertheless, Maggie removed her scarf. “Lou was the leader, and I was the girl others whispered about.” She pulled down the collar of her shirt, exposing her scar.
Duke combed his fingers through his short brown hair. “Yeah, it’s all coming back. So you’re really a reporter?”
Maggie got out a pad and pen. “Seems to me, Duke Hart, you’ve done well for yourself. Tell me how you’ve managed to amass such a fortune that you could afford to live in a penthouse in the Back Bay. What does this place go for on the open market? Two mil?”
He knocked back the whiskey, grimacing at Maggie. “Get out.”
“You were an asshole when you broke Lou’s nose, but now you’re a dick. How can you not tell your own family your sister is alive?”
Man, my dick got hard. Maggie was on a roll, and I loved every minute of watching my brother flip through every furious expression he could muster.
I sauntered over to the couch and plopped down next to my girl.My girlhad a nice ring to it. I was beginning to warm to the idea of Maggie and me as boyfriend and girlfriend. But I would deal with that later. Right now, Duke was going to talk.
“Have a seat, brother,” I said.
His eyes became pinheads. He poured himself another glass of booze, not even offering us any. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t about to touch the stuff.
I hung my arms over the back of the couch. “Pop was in the hospital for alcohol poisoning recently.”
“So the fuck what? Are you trying to tell me I’m an alcoholic?” With his glass filled to the brim, he sat down on a lone chair across from Maggie and me.
If he was or wasn’t, I didn’t know, but if he kept drinking, the possibility existed that he could take after our old man.
Maggie positioned her pen over her notepad. I had a feeling she was messing with his head, although I couldn’t be sure since she was a reporter.
“Let’s cut to the chase. Grace is alive, and I want to know where she is.” I pursed my lips. “Don’t deny it. I met someone who Grace has been living with. He brought up your name.”
Duke downed half the glass of amber liquid, not showing his cards. He’d always been good at poker.
Duke stuck out his chin. “You still owe me money, brother.”
True fact. I’d borrowed some money from him when Lizzie wanted to get in on an illegal, underground poker game. I’d never paid him back because he had never asked and I needed my money for the shelter. “Seems to me you don’t need it. Now tell me about Grace.”
Maggie was writing something down.
