Page 46 of Hart of Vengeance
A light wind pushed a paper wrapper around as the lights in shops began to dim.
Travers had dropped me off two blocks away, not that I was on the clock yet. I suspected the offer in writing would take some time.
I could return to the hospital to wait for Jade, but she might be there all night. And since Travers had an agent watching her, I felt a little at ease. Since I didn’t have a phone, I couldn’t call her, and I didn’t even know her number anyway.
Besides, after talking to Travers and thinking about the shit he’d put in my head, it was time to see Duke. I pulled on the handle of the glass door to Duke’s building and found it locked.
The bellman rose from his desk and smoothed a hand down his red jacket. He took his sweet-ass time unlocking the door. “May I help you?”
“I’m here to see Duke Hart.”
The sharp-dressed bellman glanced at his Rolex. “It’s late, and Mr. Hart isn’t expecting any visitors.”
I laughed. It wasn’t even ten p.m. Surely Duke wasn’t an old man and in bed already.
“Let him know his brother wants to see him.” I wasn’t leaving. Hell, I would park my ass outside if I had to, or I would bug the crap out of the bellman.
Careful, man. He’ll call the cops.
But I didn’t give a fuck. Even if he did, I had Travers to get me out of trouble.
“I’ll let him know you were here.” The bellman started to lock the door.
I stuck my booted foot in between the doors. “Not so fast.”
He lifted his head of thick gray hair. “Remove your foot, or I’ll call the police.”
If I had a cell phone, I would call them myself, or rather, I would call Travers. “Then you won’t mind if I wait inside while you call the cops.”
He cocked his head and looked at me as if I were mentally unstable.
I really didn’t want trouble. I looked at the name engraved on the bellman’s name tag. “Do you have family, Harris?”
He let out a long, low sigh and opened the door. “If he doesn’t want to see you, then you walk out without causing a commotion.”
I raised my hands. “Deal. But I’ll talk to my brother.”
He made quick work of getting Duke on the phone.
I breezed past the mailboxes and ponied up to the circular desk in the spacious lobby. “Use the speaker.”
“What is it, Harris?” Duke’s baritone voice came through loud and clear.
“Hey, brother,” I said before Harris could respond.
Duke growled. “Denim.”
Fucker.
“Let him up, Harris,” Duke said, albeit reluctantly.
Good move.
Five minutes later, I was walking out of the elevator and into Duke’s ritzy penthouse, which had a killer skyline view of Boston. I whistled. “You’ve done well for yourself, big brother, while I was rotting away without so much as a visit from you.”
Duke stood at parade rest in between two pillars that looked like something out of the Greek era.
I raised my eyebrows. “No comeback?”
