Chapter 28 #2
I guessed the man to be in his early twenties at the most. There was a thin gash on his left cheek, presumably from when Nathan had cut him with the broken glass the night of the attack.
He was wearing camouflage clothing, and I’d had a chance to look at his weaponry before I’d entered the room.
He’d definitely come prepared to do some damage, because he’d had enough firepower in his car to take out a small platoon…
or a rural police department. It had left me wondering if his intent had been to hunt down Brody’s men once he’d taken care of Brody.
It wouldn’t have been unreasonable for him to have watched Brody for a while to learn all he could about his movements.
And what better way to inflict as much emotional damage on Nathan as he could by taking out his brother and a slew of innocent people as well?
I stepped forward and studied the young man for a moment before slamming my fist into his jaw. His head whipped to the side and blood went flying as I knocked at least one tooth loose.
“Now, let’s try that again. What’s your name?”
“Fuck-”
Another punch cut off the response and two more to his gut had him gasping for breath. I didn’t wait for him to catch his breath before I grabbed him by the hair and wrenched his head back. “Name,” was all I said. I took my gun out and pointed it at his groin to let him know I wasn’t playing.
He remained silent, but when I pulled the trigger, unloading a bullet into the wood between his legs, he let out a bark of fear and yelled, “Clint!”
“Clint,” I said in satisfaction as I stepped back. “Clint what?”
He began shaking his head. Before he’d even finished the motion, I shot him in the knee. He screamed in agony as his body jerked in the chair. “Yates!” he shouted when I aimed for his other knee.
I glanced at Gage, who nodded and left the room. He was pulling his cell phone out as he walked through the door. I knew Ronan had a lot of resources at his disposal, so we’d likely have the basics on Clint in a matter of minutes.
But I wanted more than just the basics.
“He’s going to kill you,” Clint growled between pants as he tried to control the pain.
“Oh yeah?” I asked casually. “Who is?”
Clint remained stubbornly silent, so I shot him in the foot.
He bellowed in pain and let off a string of curses.
I strode forward and snagged him by the hair.
“Did you think this was a game?” I asked coldly.
“Did you think we’d dance around with this?
That I’d try to be your friend or that I’d toss you some empty threats to try to get you to talk? ”
Clint wisely didn’t answer. Sweat was pouring off his brow and he was struggling to catch his breath. I took my gun and jammed it against the bullet wound Reese had inflicted earlier. Clint cried out in pain and tried to twist away from me.
“Why were you after Nathan Wilder?”
Only when Clint looked like he was going to pass out did I relieve the pressure on the injury. When he didn’t answer me, I aimed for his other knee.
“My pocket!” he screamed. “Check my back pocket!”
I hesitated and then stepped around him to check his pockets. There was nothing in the first, but when my fingers grazed a piece of paper in the second, I carefully worked it free and stepped around to Clint’s front again.
Gage returned to the room and said, “Our girl’s working on pulling his info.”
I nodded as he stopped beside me. His eyes impassively took in Clint’s moans of pain before he looked at the piece of my paper in my hand.
Except it wasn’t exactly a piece of paper.
It was a check.
I opened it and flinched when I saw Nathan’s name on the signature line. The check was made out to someone named Megan Yates. The amount was for five thousand dollars. I glanced at the account information and realized the check had been drawn on Nathan’s campaign fund account.
“What is this?” I asked as I turned the check over. The check had never been endorsed and there was no indication it had been deposited or canceled.
“The cost of penance,” he snarled.
Pure fury went through me. I put the gun to the guy’s head. “What the fuck did I tell you about this not being a game?” I snapped. “Who is Megan Yates?”
“My sister!” Clint yelled.
“What’s the money for?” I asked.
“I told you-”
I aimed my gun at his other knee and pulled the trigger. Clint screamed as tears streaked down his face.
“What is the fucking money for?” I asked again.
It took several moments for Clint to speak. His voice was choked as he tried to deal with the pain. “Abortion!” he cried out. “He knocked her up and told her to get rid of it.”
I was so stunned, I actually lowered my gun and stepped back. It wasn’t fucking possible.
“You’re saying Nathan got your sister pregnant and paid her to get an abortion?” Gage asked.
“Fucker told her he loved her! That they were going to be together. She was eighteen goddamned years old!” Clint sucked in several harsh breaths. “She killed herself when he told her all she’d been was a good fuck!”
“You’re lying!” I snarled.
“No!” Clint shot back. “Look at the goddamn evidence! It’s right there in your fucking hand!”
I looked at the check again.
“Why not go to the press?” Gage asked. “You could have destroyed him politically.”
“I don’t give a fuck about his career,” Clint growled. “I want him to know what it’s like! To lose that one person that means everything to you!”
“Why go after Nathan in his house, then?” I asked.
Clint managed a smirk. “Couldn’t pass up the opportunity,” he said. “Him sitting there, not knowing what was coming.”
Gage’s phone beeped. He glanced at it and then handed it to me. The screen showed Clint’s military record. He was ex Special Forces.
Which explained his skill with a gun.
But not his ability to hack Nathan’s accounts. “Who helped you?” I asked.
Clint’s eyes went wide before he quickly shook his head. “No one, I work alone.”
Gage took the phone back and scrolled through it. “His father,” Gage murmured as he showed me the screen.
I shook my head. “William Yates, retired FBI agent specializing in Intelligence,” I said softly. I handed the phone back to Gage and glanced at the check again. “Where is he?” I asked.
“Fuck you,” Clint bit out.
“We’re back to that again?” I asked calmly as my eyes caught on Nathan’s signature.
I stared at it for so long that Gage asked, “What? What is it?”
I shook my head as I tried to figure out what was wrong with it. I searched my memory for that fleeting piece of information that was trying to elude me. Finally, it hit me.
“It’s not his signature,” I said.
“What?” Gage asked.
“It’s not his signature,” I repeated, louder this time. “I’ve seen his signature…but this handwriting,” – I tapped the signature on the check – “I’ve seen it too.”
I searched my pocket for my phone, and then remembered I’d left it outside the room after sending Cain a text asking him to let Nathan know I’d made it to Montana okay. I left the room with Gage right behind me.
“It’s his mother’s handwriting,” I said as I looked at the check again.
“When I was researching Nathan, I saw a handwritten letter she’d sent the press.
They posted a picture of the letter. It was in response to Nathan switching parties.
She was telling the press how disappointed she and her husband were in losing both of their sons to the devil, and she was asking people to pray for them. ”
I found my phone on a small table next to the cache of weapons Ronan’s men had found on Clint. But as soon as I turned the phone over, I saw a flurry of notifications for missed calls…all within the last five minutes.
They were from Cain.
Panic went through me as I scrambled to unlock my phone. Gage’s phone rang just as I was starting to dial.
“It’s Cain,” Gage said as he put his hand on my arm. He hit the speakerphone.
“Cain, I’m with Vincent,” Gage said.
“What happened?” I asked, my heart in my throat, because there was only one reason Cain would be calling me so often.
“I’m sorry, Vincent. Nathan’s gone.”