54. Fletcher
Chapter 54
Fletcher
T hree days of Bellamy’s week had passed, and I hadn’t heard a peep from him or from Luca. Daren had spent most of the time giving me the evil eye, which I probably deserved. But at the end of the day, I was my father’s son and the things he’d taught me were ingrained in my bones. The less people who knew what you were up to, the better. And if any of those people thought with their heart instead of their brain, they were a liability.
I envied Daren and Luca’s love for each other, but it drove both of them beyond the point of control. I trusted Daren as much as I was meant to, but if Luca and I were both hanging off the ledge of a building and about to fall, I had no doubt who Daren would save. That didn’t make him a bad man, but it made him a bad deputy. I would keep that secret for him, though. Because if anyone knew that about him, he’d be gone faster than the blink of an eye.
We were all replaceable. That was why we had to be careful with how we shifted power, how we gained control.
My father had called me every day, pushing me to get the dirt he was after on the North family. Earlier that morning, I’d finally snapped at him, reminding him that his time was going to be up soon and to get used to the fact I operated differently than he did. His shocked silence on the other end of the line had my blood running cold, but thirty seconds later he’d laughed into the receiver and called me a good boy.
I hung up on him.
I was getting antsy, and having Daren avoiding me like the plague was not making things any easier for me to manage. I didn’t have anyone to talk to, no one to be around.
I was going crazy from the wait.
He’d left earlier that morning for class, leaving me to pace the house from attic to basement, which was where I was when someone knocked loudly against the front door. I thought the sound was imaginary, a figment of my brain after being isolated with my own thoughts for so long, but as I climbed the stairs to the main floor, I heard it again. This time, louder and more insistent.
I stalked across the room and yanked the door open, frowning when my stare landed on a man I didn’t recognize. My heart sank, part of me wishing it had been Bellamy, or maybe even Gideon. Maybe Luca, defying me again, all in the name of love. But, no. It was a dark-haired stranger, a flop of black hair slicked back from his forehead, his olive face angular in all the right places and his clothes hiding all the right designer labels.
“What?” I asked, voice barely more than a growl.
“What have you done with Bellamy Marchant?”
I raised a brow. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Shocked at his bravado, I scrunched my nose and laughed at him. “Who’s asking?”
The man cocked his head to the side, arrogant smile flashing across his face. “Me.”
“Well, me . Since I don’t know who the fuck you are, the answer remains none of your goddamn business.” I moved to slam the door in his face, but he was quicker, shoving his booted foot between the door and the frame before I could get it latched in place.
“Let me rephrase that,” he said, using his shoulder to push into the door. It didn’t throw me off-balance, but it jarred enough of a crack open for him to get his body through. “I know he left this house three days ago, but I don’t know where he went and he hasn’t been seen since.”
“He’s not my concern,” I lied, the words churning in my throat like bile. “Go take it up with student affairs.”
“How about I take it up with your father instead?”
“My father cares less about Bellamy Marchant than I do.”
Another lie.
I cared about Bellamy more than I would ever admit and my father cared about how useful he was. Nothing more.
“Are you going to make me spell everything out for you, Sinclair?”
“Don’t call me that,” I growled, slamming the stranger into the wall with my forearm pressed against his throat.
“That’s a name for Gideon North, then. Is it?” He smirked at me, and I shoved my arm so hard into his windpipe, spit beaded at the corner of his mouth. Most men would have looked scared, but not this one. He looked…eager.
Exhilarated.
“Who are you?” I asked again.
“My name is Vince Angelini,” he said, tilting his head against the door to alleviate some of the pressure against his throat.
“That name means nothing to me.”
Another lie on the list. I knew exactly who the Angelini family was, but I wasn’t about to let this cocky piece of shit know that. If his ego swelled up any larger, it would smother the both of us. The Angelinis weren’t anyone as far as the Thorns and the Roses were concerned, but they had their own allegiances and their own rules…far outside the boundaries of the ways we ran.
“Then you’re slow,” he rasped. He might have known I was lying, but he wasn’t certain enough to call me out on it.
While I knew the family name, I had no idea who this arrogant little shit stain was. On the other hand, he clearly knew things he shouldn’t have, and that was enough to have the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. I didn’t know if he was a plant from my father to test my loyalty or what, but it was a rare thing for someone to have the upper hand on me, and I didn’t enjoy the way it felt.
“I’ll fucking bleed you out right here,” I warned him, “if you don’t start speaking in ways that matter.”
“Use that pretty little brain of yours,” he suggested, reaching up and tapping my temple.
I smacked his hand away, stepping back and letting him fall onto the floor in a heap. Vince sucked in breath after breath, then stood to his full height and gazed at me once again with that smug smirk that had found him against the door in the first place.
“Vince?”
Hearing the recognition in Daren’s voice was the absolute last thing I’d expected.
“Pretty boy,” Vince said, almost a coo. “Good to see you again.”