11. Vuk
CHAPTER 11
Vuk
S ame height. Same build. Same cap as the man from the surveillance photos.
From the back, my target was a dead ringer for the mystery Brother, but his gait gave him away. It was too hesitant.
Nevertheless, he was another thread in the Brotherhood’s web. It was the only thing with the power to tear me away from Ayana.
He turned left onto a side street. I followed him, keeping enough distance for discretion but not so much I risked losing him. My pulse drummed in my ears.
He’d been tailing me all day. I’d picked up on it immediately after I left the house, but I’d lost him somewhere between the Upper East Side and Beaumont’s headquarters.
He didn’t pose an immediate threat—if he wanted to kill me, he would’ve tried the instant I stepped outside my house—so I’d pretended not to notice. But passing by so deliberately when I was with Ayana was a clear fucking violation. I didn’t want her anywhere near their radar.
The Brotherhood usually didn’t drag innocent civilians into their business, but one could never be too careful. Their rules of engagement might’ve changed over the years.
I should’ve slipped into Beaumont’s office like I’d originally planned instead of changing course to follow Ayana when I saw her leaving their headquarters, but I couldn’t resist. An extra moment alone with her was worth the disruption—unless it put her in danger.
The man in the blue cap slowed his pace while I kept mine steady.
The street we were on was so narrow it wouldn’t fit even the smallest car. Shuttered windows and graffitied walls lined the grimy path, and a stray cat scampered behind a dumpster when I approached. Otherwise, there was no other sign of life.
Blue Cap nearly reached the end of the street before his self-preservation instincts kicked in. He whirled around, his expression like that of a rabbit who sensed a predator looming.
It was too late; I’d already caught up with him.
He swung at me, but I easily dodged the hit and slammed him against the wall. My forearm pressed up against his chain. He flailed, trying to throw me off, but his struggles gradually weakened as he ran out of energy and oxygen.
Considering how he’d gone out of his way to provoke my attention at the café—he had to have known I would see him through the window and follow him—he was putting up a valiant effort to escape.
Either he was an imbecile, or he was arrogant enough to think he’d escape my notice.
However, his sloppiness confirmed what I’d suspected: he wasn’t a Brother. The organization may have changed over the years, but they would never slack so much with their recruits.
I narrowed my eyes, taking in Blue Cap’s reddening face. He reeked of fear.
There was no one else around. If I exerted a little more pressure on his windpipe…
“Wait!” he choked out. “This isn’t what you think. I’m not?—”
I pressed my forearm harder against his throat and watched him claw at my hold with cold apathy.
No, I wouldn’t kill him yet. He was a source of information, but even sources needed some extra motivation.
I waited until his face morphed from red to deep purple before I eased my hold.
He gasped, his chest heaving with great deep breaths. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he wheezed. “Someone paid me to follow you and get your attention. He said—he said I couldn’t just come up to you. I had to make you come to me.”
See? Nothing loosened the tongue faster than the fear of death.
“Why?” My voice sounded guttural after years of little use. I hated wasting words on unimportant people, but it was necessary in situations like this.
“I don’t know!” Tears welled in Blue Cap’s eyes. “He paid me a thousand dollars in cash to wear this cap and pass along a message. He gave me your home and office addresses. I really needed the money, so I didn’t ask questions.”
The man in the photo must’ve known Blue Cap’s resemblance to him would catch my attention. The hat was the cherry on top.
“The—the note is in my pants pocket. Left side.” Blue Cap looked like he sorely regretted agreeing to what he thought was easy money.
He could be lying. The Brothers weren’t above faking victimhood in pursuit of their goals, but I’d developed a finely honed radar for bullshit.
He was telling the truth.
Even so, I kept my arm on his throat and my senses on high alert while I retrieved the note. It came in a plain white envelope with my initials printed on the front in black Times New Roman font. Simple, generic, untraceable.
“Describe him,” I commanded.
“He approached me outside a bar last night. It was dark, and he had a hoodie and sunglasses on. I couldn’t see—” Blue Cap choked as I cut off his air once more.
“Wait! Wait.” He panted. “I—I do remember that he was around my height. Similar build. He was maybe in his late twenties or early thirties? It was hard to tell, but…but he smelled like motor oil. Like a mechanic or something.”
Interesting.
I filed that information away for further inspection. There were several abandoned garages around the city that could be used as a safe house. It was worth looking into.
Blue Cap didn’t have any more useful intel, so I released him with a cool threat not to speak a word of this incident to anyone. I didn’t tell him what I would do if he broke his promise; I didn’t need to.
I waited until he’d scurried off before I opened the envelope. Blue Cap’s wallet with his ID rested in my pocket. He hadn’t even noticed me take it.
Sean could run his name through our database later; for now, I was focused on the contents of the note.
One sentence, typed in the same generic black type as my initials.
Find me before they do.