Chapter 12 Shep
SHEP
“JESUS CHRIST.” MY breath left my body like I’d been sucker-punched as I stared wide-eyed at what was inside the storage unit.
This had been a long shot. I hadn’t wanted to get my hopes up even though my gut had told me there was something here, and truth be told, this was a better lead than anything else we’d had, so why not check it out?
But this…
Holy shit. I hadn’t expected this.
“What in the demented fuck?” Lachlan said, stepping into the space that wasn’t more than ten feet by ten feet, roughly the size of a one-car garage. Fluorescent lights overhead flickered, one buzzing weakly like it was about to die.
It wasn’t the computer setup against one wall—an already odd choice in a storage unit—that caught and held our attention.
It wasn’t even the several feet of rope wound neatly and hanging off the back of the chair that did it, though maybe that was just because Theo wasn’t currently sitting in the chair.
No, the glaring issue was the way every single inch of space on the walls had been covered in photos, printouts, maps, and whiteboards that featured not just Theo’s face…but all of us.
And most predominately? The large image in the center of the others, the one that had strings attached to each of us?
Tyrone Kingston.
All heads pivoted in our leader’s direction, shock written across all my brothers’ faces, the same I could feel on mine.
King remained silent, his jaw tightly clenched as he stared at the photos.
There were numbers marked on each of us, though they didn’t seem to coordinate with seniority in the group, otherwise King would be number one.
No, that honor had gone to the man standing beside me, the one who could’ve been tied to the lone chair in the unit had I not found him in time. “1” was drawn over his body in red Sharpie.
At least, I thought it was Sharpie. Wouldn’t put it past the fucker to be drawing in blood.
I swallowed hard and found myself reaching for Theo’s hand again, needing to feel him to make sure he was really there. It was obvious he was the first target, but not the last. Not when all of us were marked, and that number two spot was clear as day and reserved…
For me.
I was next.
Theo’s eyes met mine behind the mask, so many unspoken emotions in those blue depths. Worry, anger, determination, revenge. All the same things I was feeling too, though wrath was taking the lead at the moment with every fucked-up thing my gaze caught on.
Lucien let out a low whistle and brushed by me for a closer look, fingering one of the strings that led from King to his own picture, marked “5.” “Clearly someone is a little obsessed.”
“This isn’t obsession,” I snapped. “This is derangement.”
“That too.” Lucien traced the string back to King’s picture. “Looks like he’s saving you for last, King.”
The low, menacing growl that emanated from our leader had goosebumps popping up along my skin. It was rare that any of us saw this side of him—he was perpetually the cool, calm, and collected one. Never one to fly off the handle. Usually weighed every decision carefully…
Though that hadn’t been the case with Theo, had it?
King scanned the room, dark eyes quietly assessing before he issued one firm command: “Search it all.”
Alessio headed straight for the computer, Lucien and Lachlan took video and photos of every inch of the space, while Theo and I broke into the locked filing cabinets.
I let him take the lead on that, since I could feel the waves of restlessness rolling off him.
He needed something physical to do, and beating the drawers open with a hammer I hadn’t even realized he brought was one way to get out all that energy.
Too bad the fucker the unit belonged to hadn’t been here, or we’d all be fighting over who got to tear into him.
Not a word was spoken as we all focused on our tasks, and with every breath the tension in the air grew more taut.
My heart was beating an erratic rhythm that felt out of place with my usual composure.
Maybe it was because this was personal. The person all this shit belonged to had tried to kill Theo. My Theo.
Metal scraped against metal as Theo yanked open the first drawer for me and then dropped to his knees to work on the bottom one. I grabbed the first file with gloved hands and flipped through it.
“Libertine members,” I muttered, turning page after page of what seemed to be an unofficial membership roster.
We never would’ve shared such a list with our members, so this had been cobbled together—and on our letterhead, no less.
“We were right,” I said, holding up the file.
“This guy’s a Libertine. He’s got internal memos printed out and has every member in every club accounted for. ”
“And photos,” Theo said, rising to his feet with his own stack of findings. “Of everyone. Not just the ones on the walls.”
Pulse hammering, I switched files with Theo and flipped through the pictures, some of them glossy and crystal clear, some of them zoomed in and slightly grainy, but all of them candid—and without our knowledge.
Theo at a gala smiling with me looking serious and just out of focus behind him.
Lachlan talking to Lucien outside Libertine’s discreet entrance.
King exiting a black SUV somewhere outside of Manhattan. It went on and on.
“He’s been watching us for years,” Theo said.
King’s voice cut through, cold and sharp. “This isn’t just surveillance. It’s an archive.”
My blood ran cold as I found more envelopes, some torn, some sealed, but each marked with black ink featuring the names of every person in this room—and Benoit.
Alessio cursed as he opened a drawer beside him and picked up a hard drive.
“Well, looky what we have here.” He plugged it into the computer, and soon, lines of code began to scroll across the screen.
“Encrypted,” he muttered, his fingers flying over the keys.
Several folders popped up on the screen, and he clicked on one. “Huh.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Lachlan said. “What is all that?”
“Financial records… Timestamps from six years ago. This is one of our old shell accounts.”
King’s expression hardened. “No. That was scrubbed.”
“Apparently not. There’s a video file, too.”
Theo’s gaze snapped toward him and he abandoned his file. “Play it.”
The video flickered at first before settling on a dark-headed thirty-something man seated in front of a computer monitor.
With the angle of the screen, it seemed the camera was one for security up in the top corner of the room.
It didn’t seem to be recording somewhere important, not with the piles of papers littering the desk and not much else of note in the room.
Maybe it was a home office? But why would a home office need a security camera?
The man’s voice was shaking slightly as he spoke urgently to whoever was on the other end of his cell phone.
“I think they’ve caught on,” he said, lowering the phone onto the desk. He tapped the button for speakerphone, leaving his hands free to type something into the computer.
The voice on the other end of the line sounded a lot like the man in the office, only slightly deeper. “They don’t know a thing. Trust me.”
“Then why can’t I access any of their accounts? They’ve all just fuckin’ disappeared.”
“You can find them again.”
“You’re not listening. The fact their shit’s been moved in the first place is a problem. You don’t move hundreds of mils without a reason.”
There was a deep sigh from the man on the line. “You’re being paranoid. These rich assholes probably take precautions like this all the time.”
“I don’t think so. I need—”
“To handle it. Or I will.”
“Who the fuck made you the boss?”
He snorted. “Eldest child privileges. Call me when it’s done.”
The call ended and the man in the video grumbled under his breath before slapping the phone off the table. He held his head in frustration for a long time before going back to typing on the computer, but a few seconds in, he whirled around in his chair suddenly to face the door.
Utter shock and terror were written all over his face as he scrambled to his feet, holding his hands up.
At first it was hard to tell what had him so frightened, but then a familiar figure stepped through the doorway, his gun aimed straight at him.
King.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen as King stalked forward, pure vengeance radiating off every part of him. He looked scary as fuck, and I wondered what the hell this guy had done to provoke him.
“You can’t be all that surprised,” King said.
The man swallowed and moved away, tripping over his chair. “Th-the money—”
“It’s not about the money. Siphoning from us is a shit thing to do, but it won’t get you killed.” King stepped in even closer, leaving nowhere for the man to go. “But you made a grave mistake. You threatened exposure, which, in turn, puts me at risk. Puts my men at risk. My entire organization.”
The man’s mouth opened and shut, like he wanted to fight that claim but couldn’t.
“No one fucks with what’s mine. And certainly not a two-bit hacker no one will miss.” King aimed at the man’s head and, without another word, pulled the trigger.
The video cut off then, and I immediately looked to King.
Who didn’t look even a bit remorseful.
I didn’t even know where to start with the questions I wanted to ask, something that seemed to be the general theme among the others as well.
“I’m not sorry,” King said, his voice strong and clear. “He threatened to expose everything we’ve worked for. Everything we’re doing.”
“No one blames you for that.” Lachlan was the first to speak up, clearly having no issue with taking out someone who posed a threat. “But—”