17. Samson
SAMSON
My temper climbs higher with every step I take toward the meeting room. By the time I throw open the door, it’s ascended to whole new heights. “Seriously? We have to fucking do this now?”
“Yes.” Wylder is unbothered by my fury, jutting his chin toward an empty seat. “Your week is up.”
All of my brothers are present except Cade, who arrives with me.
Neo drops in beside Wylder, as always, and Wyatt with Matthias.
The latter is staring at me broodingly, stroking his hand over his short stubble.
Sometimes, I forget that he and Wyatt are lawyers.
But when he turns that curious gaze on me, it’s suddenly impossible to escape.
“Not only is your time up, but you decided to bring the mark home for a visit,” Harley drawls, rocking back on two legs of his chair.
His expression is dark, but I’m guessing that has more to do with whatever just went down with Jules rather than Rowan’s presence in the house.
“Is that what we’re doing now? Honoring requests with tours instead of daggers? ”
Said dagger is in my hand as I lean menacingly on the table. “Call him a mark again. I dare you. I fucking dare you.”
Cade slides into the seat beside me, yanking on my arm until I tumble down into my own chair. “Cut it out, Harley. Whatever bug’s crawled up your ass has nothing to do with Samson, and we all know it.”
Harley turns his ire on Cade. “Fuck off. I’m worried about this, and you should be too.”
Cade frowns. “What do you mean?”
Harley points a finger at the door. “Right now, your boyfriend is giving a known murderer a tour around the house. You’re honestly telling me you feel safe leaving Ansel with Rowan?”
Cade shrugs. “Ansel sleeps next to a murderer every night. He’s done okay so far.”
My brother might sound cavalier, but we all know how well Ansel has been trained. Neo, Wyatt, and Jackson too. Living as a Buckingham means accepting certain risks…and learning how to mitigate them.
Thanks to his close association with Harley, the same offer has been extended to Jules many times. He’s always shied away from it, insisting violence of any kind, even in self-defense, makes him queasy.
Unless Harley decides to finally make things official with our chef, there’s only so much we can insist upon. We really have no hold over him.
He’s just an employee.
For now.
“We’re all murderers in here,” I say, before reconsidering. “Well, most of us. But that man out there with Ansel? He’s not one.”
Wylder taps a finger on the table. “Explain.”
I hesitate as I think of Rowan breaking down in my arms the night before. How he sobbed until his throat was raw and his body forced him into sleep. “Adam had a stalker. He’s the killer. Not Rowan.”
I give them the CliffsNotes, omitting anything personal that Rowan revealed, but enough to convince them that Rowan is not the one we should be punishing.
Matthias sighs. “Fuck. The evidence we were given was so compelling.”
“Was it?” I meet his gaze coolly. “Or was it circumstantial at best? All we had was Rowan being the last person seen leaving Adam’s apartment and their close relationship. Even the police didn’t have enough to charge him. Whatever conclusion we came up with was lazy at best.”
“Samson’s not wrong,” Wylder says heavily. “We’ve all been over the case files this week. While Rowan is the only suspect, that alone shouldn’t be reason enough to condemn him.”
My mood lifts a little knowing Wylder’s on my side. Cade too, from the look of it. Harley was the one to suggest I go on protection detail in the first place, so when his mood clears, he’ll probably have my back as well. I’m certain I can win the rest of them over.
And if I can’t? Then I’ll stand guard over Rowan until I do. If one of them decides to finish the job themselves, they’ll have to get through me first.
That realization settles in me like a stone in my stomach. Never have I put something or someone else before my family, before The Firm.
But I’m going to do exactly that with Rowan. I don’t know what’s going on with us, if anything, but I’m not letting anyone hurt him.
Not even my family.
“Someone still made the request,” Dalton says. “If Rowan isn’t the murderer, then it raises questions about that. Who asked? Was it the murderer, or someone else?”
His questions are directed at Neo. He’s taken over tracking the requests from Wylder.
Neo opens his laptop and taps at a few keys. “The request came from Adriana Willis—Adam’s sister.”
People might think they are anonymous when they drop off a request; the setup at the church certainly makes it appear that way. The reality is that it’s covered in cameras. On the rare occasion that someone disguises themselves enough to hide their identity, we don’t honor their requests.
How else are we meant to demand a price if we don’t know who to ask?
“Fuck.” I slump down in the chair. “So, not the murderer, then.”
“What makes you so sure?” Wyatt asks. “We’ve dealt with more fucked-up situations than stalking, murderous siblings.”
I shake my head. “No. From what Rowan told me, the messages Adam received were sexual, and likely from a male.”
“Were these messages ever reported?” Matthias asks. “I don’t remember seeing anything about those in the files.”
I shake my head grimly. “Rowan and Adam went to the police several times, but they were never taken seriously. The night it happened, they agreed to go back the following morning. Rowan was even thinking of coming to us for help, but…”
“But it was too late,” Wylder finishes grimly. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, we’ve really messed up on this one.” Neo chews on his lip. “I’m already thinking of ways we can avoid this happening again in the future. More checks, obviously. But perhaps a period of monitoring for termination requests?”
Quiet discussion breaks out around me, but I tune it out. I’m fixated on those words from Neo.
Termination requests.
I stroke the edge of my dagger idly. In all honesty, human lives have never meant much to me. I’m never happier than when ending one, especially knowing I’m delivering justice to those who deserve it.
But what if they don’t? What if Rowan isn’t the first mistake we’ve made?
From the creases around Wylder’s mouth, I can tell he’s thinking the same. We’ve been playing this game all of our adult lives, and suddenly we’re realizing that the rules we’ve been following might be flawed.
It’s an uncomfortable revelation to sit with.
Cade’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Samson? What do you think?”
“About what?”
“Rowan.”
I stare at my brother. Surely he doesn’t think I’m about to spill my heart in front of all of them. He might be about that life, but I’m fucking not.
“About how we move forward,” he clarifies, his lips curling as though he knows exactly where my thoughts have gone. “Obviously this is one request we won’t be fulfilling, but that’s not to stop Adriana from taking matters into her own hands.”
“Or hiring someone from outside the city limits,” Wylder says before nodding at Neo. “If I tell you who to look for, can you set up facial recognition on the city’s cameras? I want to know the second any of the usual players enter our turf.”
Neo rolls his eyes. “Child’s play. Give me something hard to do for once.”
Wylder’s pupils dilate as he leans closer to his boyfriend. “Are you going to be a brat all day?”
“Probably.” The blue-haired little punk pops his gum right in Wylder’s face. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Wylder growls, but we all know Neo’s right. We’ve all spotted him chasing Neo through the woods at one point or another.
I try to picture Rowan’s lithe form darting between the trees and fail. He doesn’t suit hiding in the darkness for any reason.
Rowan deserves to shine under the spotlight.
“He needs protecting,” I say suddenly. All eyes turn to me. Most are intrigued, some are smug, and all are unsurprised. “I’ll do it.”
“I think you’ll need more than just you on the case,” Matthias says. “Just until we’ve established whether Adriana is a threat to Rowan.”
“I can handle it. I don’t need anyone else’s help.”
Cade squeezes my shoulder. “It’s what we do, Brother.”
That might be true, but I can’t let go of the knowledge that if it hadn’t been for me, Rowan would be dead already. Not one of my brothers would’ve paused for a second. Why would they? And it isn’t like I bothered in the past.
Rowan’s the only person ever to make me hesitate. To make me question.
For that alone, I’ll protect him until the day I die.
“I don’t need help,” I repeat suddenly.
“Fine,” Wylder sighs. “Then Rowan moves in here. Just like Ansel did. He’ll be safer.”
“Then the two of you can play a game of hide the purple sausage.” Neo waggles his brows.
Everyone around the table gapes at Wylder. Harley is the first to recover. “Um, are you basing this on real life? Because, if so, I have more questions. Like, how purple? Are we talking mulberry or lavender? If it’s the latter, we may need to call in a doctor for Wylder.”
Wylder pushes his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “We are not discussing this.”
“Like this color,” Neo says, spinning his laptop around to show a color wheel. “Eggplant. But only if I get him real excited.”
I stab my dagger into the table as my brothers all groan—all except Harley, who is leaning over to consult with Neo over the damned color wheel.
I keep my hand on the knife until Neo’s mouth stops moving. When they’re finally done, I see Wylder shove his chair back and stand.
“Excuse us,” Wylder says as he glowers at Neo. “We need to go discuss something.”
“Your foreplay needs to wait,” I say, holding up a hand. “There’s something else we need to talk about.”
Wylder grudgingly returns to the table, dragging Neo until his chair is pushed against his own. I try not to focus on where Neo’s hand appears to be. “Make it quick.”
Yeah, not sure that’s going to happen.
“There’s an older guy living next to Rowan,” I start. “He called me yesterday when he realized that Rowan…needed someone.”