Page 40 of Irrevocably

“Fuck you,” the man growls. “I’m not telling you anything.”

Lazarus delivers a casual backhand, the sound of the blow and the man’s guttural curse echoing. “A little respect is in order,” he says mildly. “Especially considering we haven’t even started yet. By the way,” Lazarus adds, looking at me, “Moretti seems to have vanished. You know anything about that?”

A memory of the night before plays in my head, of Moretti shoving Astrid up against her car and the barrel of a gun jammed in her side, and the thick, hot, slow-moving anger in my gut rears its head again.

I spent today hunting down the rest of Moretti’s crew, but there were only a couple of them, lurking in a motel out of town, waiting for him. It didn’t take me long to get rid of them.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” I say. “He got in my way, so I dealt with him and others who were with him.”

A muscle in the side of Lazarus’s jaw leaps. “I thought I told you to leave him alone.”

“Like I said, he got in my way.” I circle the Hound in the chair, automatically noting the places on his body that could be used as incentive to get him to talk. Difficult in a biker with fierce loyalties, but I’ve managed to get information out of more difficult subjects. “The Morettis won’t come looking for him just yet.”

Lazarus grunts. He’s not happy, but that’s too bad. “Killian’s in the city, cementing a possible alliance. I’ll ask him to check what the Morettis are doing.” He gets out his phone and begins typing a text.

I circle the man again. He has his road name – Creep; how apt – on his back along with his patch.

“So, Creep,” I say. “Do you want to do this the easy way? Or the hard way?”

He bares his teeth at me. “Come closer and I’ll rip out your throat.”

“Bit difficult to do that with your hands and feet tied,” I point out mildly. Reaching behind me, I pull out my Glock and make a point of checking it over. I don’t need to check it, but watching me do, it builds anticipation in a subject. Makes them start thinking about what I’m going to do and how I’m going to do it, and how much it will hurt.

Creep sneers. “Like I said, I’m not going to tell you a fucking thing.”

“Okay,” I say easily. “Have it your way.” I lift the Glock and aim at his right kneecap. “What agreement does the chief have with your president? Why does he let you run your little operation without any legal interference?”

“Fuck you,” Creep spits.

I pull the trigger and the denim of his jeans explodes, blood splattering everywhere. He howls, screaming obscenities.

“Pussy,” Lazarus comments, tucking his phone away as Creep screams. “It’s just a kneecap, not the end of the world.”

“Right?” I aim my Glock at Creep’s other knee, the cold, clear focus of Enzo’s chief enforcer sweeping through me. “Let’s try that again, shall we? What agreement does the chief have with your president? Why does he let you run your little operation without any legal interference?”

Creep screams more obscenities and since not one of them is the answer I want, I shoot him in the other knee. Over yet more screams, I can feel Lazarus’s gaze, so I glance at him, lifting an eyebrow in enquiry.

“You’ve certainly done this before, haven’t you?” he says.

“What?” I say coolly, keeping my face expressionless. “Interrogate someone? Yes. Haven’t we all?”

“Oh sure, but you seem to … enjoy it.”

I don’t know where he’s going with this, so I merely shrug and adjust the aim of my Glock to Creep’s balls. “It’s not enjoyment. It’s focus. We’re here to get information, that’s all.”

“Where were you last night?”

The question almost puts me off my aim because I’m not expecting it. I know Lazarus has had a few doubts about me, but I thought he’d put them aside for now. Clearly not. He’s suspicious. “Killing Moretti,” I say. “Well, Creep? How are we doing?”

Creep has stopped screaming and is now moaning, blood seeping through the denim of his jeans.

“I’m the head of the family, Luc, and I told you not to,” Lazarus says, his voice deceptively casual. “You follow my orders.”

A thread of irritation winds through me. Does he want me to apologise?

While I was out hunting today, I let Enzo know that I’d got rid of Moretti, and as I suspected, he was pleased. We’ll eventually have to deal with the rest of the Moretti family, but not until the MC has been dealt with. Surely Lazarus can see that one less Moretti is a good thing. Then again, if he’s doubting my loyalty, I need to make sure he doesn’t.

“Of course.” I hold his gaze. “I apologise.” An apology is an easy thing to give him, and it’s just words. It’s not a blood vow, not like the vows I made to Enzo. “What would you like me to do with Creep here?”