Page 122 of Watched

“You sign this, you let Rome be, and…”

“You do not interfere when I go back to LA,” Blade finishes.

“Or,” I smile, “I will drain your precious bank accounts and keep your system down.”

“My own sons are stealing from me and trying to blackmail me?”

“Business is business. You were going to send people after Rome, and I do not take kindly to that.”

“And what about Ezra Smith? Hmm? How do you plan to find him without my resources?”

“Three moves ahead, right?”

“Why do you think I took over your men on watching Ryan White?” Blade laughs. “I needed some balls in my court. That day we met we had an agreement, Aaron. Don’t make a deal you aren’t sure won’t backfire.”

“This is fucking unbelievable,” Dad scoffs.

I tap the pen on the page. “You still keep the company and make money. We’re just…evolving old methods.”

“Sign,” Blade commands.

My father loses the high head and composure he holds so tightly as he snatches the pen, signing on the lines I’ve already marked.

Plastered against the wall, my gaze locks to the widening crack. The creak of the front door echoes through the silent house, the moonlight threatening to eat away at the shadow concealing me. Forcing my breaths to quiet against my mask, I watch him step in and throw the door shut. Lurching forward, I snatch the gun from his holster and raise mine to the side of his head. Blade’s gloved hand is wrapped over his mouth, his elbow crooked around his neck.

“So nice to see you, Officer Davis,” I taunt.

His heavy breaths strain against Blade’s gloves, the moonlight spilling in through the living room window revealing his pissed off expression.

“If you’re a good boy, I won’t duct-tape your mouth shut. If you scream, I may just use said duct-tape to give you a new haircut, if you catch my drift.” He has fuck all hair left anyway. He’s only fifty but looks on the verge of a casket.

“Nod for option one, scream for option two,” Blade explains.

He nods slowly. The clicking of his own cuffs jolt through the tense silence as his hands are restrained behind his back and Blade forces him to sit on the sofa.

He’s on a cop’s salary, and I’m wondering how many bribes he’s taken to afford his house. The land—while not as big as what Blade and I live on—is still a few acres.

“My wife will be home soon,” he spits.

I laugh and take a seat on the coffee table before him. “Your wife is in Wales visiting your daughter.”

He snarls, relaxing back.

I open my mouth to speak, but the crinkling of a packet and the following crunching stops me. I glare over my shoulder at Blade relaxed in a chair, mask string around his wrist while he shovels potato chips into his mouth.

“Really?” I deadpan. “Where did you even get those?”

“Vending machine.”

Turning back to Graham and drowning out Blade, I slide the laptop out from beneath the sofa and hold it up. “What I find interesting, Graham, is that you have an encrypted laptop even I can’t get into.” He bares his teeth, looking more like a poodle rather than the lion he’s attempting to portray. “Ezra Smith gave you this for communication, which is why you were the one to attend when Blade was in the hospital. It’s also why you showed up as ‘added backup’ when you got word Blade and I were present at Rome Aston’s home.”

I’d tried for over an hour to get into this laptop, and while I pride myself on my skills with electronic devices, my knowledge fell short on this one.

I know, it hurts me too.

“What I want to know is what he has over you?” I toss the laptop beside him. “Threatening your wife? Your daughter? Which is it?” Graham lets out a rough laugh, looking at the laptop, but doesn’t speak. “Perhaps the help of a promotion,” I supply for him.

His jaw tightens.