Page 59 of Brutal Truths

They exchange a look, a silent question passing between them—would Aiden approve of this?

“He told my brother and Darius that he was going to tell me everything, promise.” I brace my hands on my knees. “But then he got called away before he could. It can’t hurt, right? I might see something you don’t.”

My teeth catch the side of my lip, hoping I sound convincing.

Lane reaches behind him without another word and pulls a file free, sliding it toward me. “He had me put this together for you.”

Pauly scratches his chin as his eyes travel to the corner behind me.

Following his gaze, I see two black duffel bags—one is open. “Are those Aiden’s?”

“They are,” Pauly says as he stands and stretches. “When he sent Kimber to his place to collect Bear, one of our other friends went with her. They emptied his safe. Anything he didn’t want anyone else getting their hands on. Wylan has agreed to let us keep most of it in his safe.”

“Most?” I pivot to face them, unease prickling. “Why not all of it?”

“It wouldn’t all fit. Only the important pieces went in the safe.” Lane shoves his chair back and walks over to the closet, disappearing inside without another word.

The quiet that follows is broken by the faint spinning of what I imagine is the lock on the safe. Then there is a soft click. A few moments later, he walks back into the room, placing a small stack on the table closest to him.

Two envelopes and a couple of folders.

Curious, I push my tired body to stand and shuffle over. My name is on one envelope, my grandmother’s on the other. I reach for mine, pulling in a steady breath as I prepare to open it. Then pause when Lane walks back into the room again.

This time something feels off. He’s wearing black latex gloves. The item he’s carrying is hidden inside a black canvas bag.

A cold prickle runs along my skin.

Setting the envelope back on the table, I point at his hand. “What’s that? And why are you wearing gloves?”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he sets the bag down, the weight of it hitting the table with a heavy, unsettling clunk. Then, slowly, he unrolls it.

My breath catches.

A sealed, clear plastic bag. Inside it, a tightly bound parcel of silk stained with blood, wrapped around something I’d prefer not to imagine.

“That was inside the safe at my grandparents’ penthouse? Which one?”

My eyes stay locked on it, the shape becoming clearer the longer I stare—a weapon. A gun.

“Aiden said it slipped from a stack of folders he was removing from the gallery safe.”

Lane unzips the plastic bag and carefully removes the silk material. Now that it’s free, I can see that it’s a scarf, a familiar one.

I watch, breath held, as he unwraps it, revealing the handgun tucked away inside. I’ve never seen it before. Don’t recognize it at all.

As far as I know, my grandfather only owned one gun. A .357 Magnum revolver he kept locked in his desk drawer. Illegal to own, not that he cared.

Where did this one come from?

And why is it wrapped in the scarf I gifted my grandmother three Christmases ago?

Chapter 17

Isabel

“You okay?” Pauly’s voice reaches me, softer now, full of concern.

I nod, because I can’t seem to do anything else, my throat too tight for words as I pick up the envelope with my name on it and turn away from them. The weight of everything presses in, and I need space. Just a little distance to breathe.