Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
NOAH
I should kill her and be done with it. Putting her up in the auction isn't going to be worth the trouble anymore. Certainly not when she tries to kill me or gives me an attitude at every turn.
I've never had a hostage I'm this conflicted about.
As I stand on the other side of the door to her room, I scrub a hand down my face.
It's been a week since I had her put back in her room. One week, and she has me thinking about putting a bullet through my own head just so I don't have to deal with this shit anymore.
"Stupid fucking bastard!" she screams. Something heavy hits the door, making it jerk against me.
My cock swells slightly against the zipper, and I consider turning around and going back in there.
I could bend her over the bed and teach her a lesson in obedience. I could have her begging for me, crying and asking me to end it all.
And by "end it all," I have no idea if I mean I am going to give her multiple orgasms or a nice nap at the bottom of the lake.
I push off the door and head down the stairs, hoping there's someone in the holding cells for me to hit.
If Robert hasn't found the rest of the traitors by now, I'm going to consider putting his ass on the line for it all. With the way he questions me, he would have earned it.
I stop at the bottom of the stairs, hissing in pain when my arm hits the banister.
The cut she left on my forearm starts bleeding again. I don't know how the hell she keeps finding stuff to use as weapons.
Robert passes me in the hall, coming to a stop and turning around. "Are you bleeding?"
"No fucking shit." I scowl and head into the kitchen, knowing he'll trail behind me.
For someone who doesn't like living in my shadow, he sure seems to find his way there a lot.
I grab a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and pour a glass, downing it in one go before pulling out the first aid kit from under the sink. "Got the auction ready yet?"
"Venue and vendors are all set. We're almost ready."
"I want a date by the end of the week." I grimace as I thread the needle and put it through my skin.
It doesn't matter how many times I've sewn myself up; it never gets any more pleasant. In fact, it only feels worse.
"You know, you don't have to keep her in that room. You could kill her or get rid of her now."
"Not part of the plan." I glance at Robert, watching the way he hovers close to the windows on the other side of the room, looking out over the gardens. "What are you doing?"
"Think there's going to be something going on later. The Lyndes have been attacking different businesses on and off for the last two weeks. Maybe it's time you just give her back to them and let this die."
I finish sewing up the wound and tie off the thread before breaking it. "Excuse me?"
"This isn't sustainable, and we both know it. We're losing more people than we're recruiting, and several of our allies have already said they're done."
"Which is why the auction is happening. To raise funds. To show people we're still stable and have our foot on the gas, even as the Lyndes are trying to ruin everything I've built since they murdered our father."
"All I'm saying is—"
"And here I thought you wanted them dead too, for everything they've done. Now you've got me wondering if that's ever what you really wanted."
Robert's face turns red, the deep line appearing between his eyebrows and more at the corners of his mouth. "What the fuck."
"You keep pushing to leave New York. You want to go and start the business over somewhere new. It's shortsighted, and it's turning your back on everything I've built."
"And who the fuck was there beside you while you built it all?" Robert's hands ball into fists.
There's a part of me that wants him to hit me. I want to fight with him the way we did when we were younger, punching each other until we're both too tired to keep going and the fight fades to the background. I'm tired of not being able to look at him as my equal.
I miss my brother, even though we don't get along all the time.
It's been too long since we could spend much time around each other and not argue about the future of the family.
His problem has always been his impulsivity, though.
He's never had a head for the long game, and I'm sure that's why he wants us to leave.
He thinks leaving is easier than staying.
And maybe he's right. But staying is what's going to bring us the bigger reward in the end.
Robert grinds his teeth and nods to the cut on my arm. "You've got to stop letting her get the upper hand."
"Well, I was told she was the Lynde least likely to fight, yet here we are. She's clawing at me and using anything she can get her hands on as a weapon." I put the kit away and pour myself another glass of whiskey, sipping on this one. "There's something admirable about it, though."
He scoffs and shakes his head, getting his own glass. "You sound like you admire her for that."
"I do." I lean back against the counter, swirling the amber liquid in my glass.
"We could use more of that around here. We need people who want to fight to live.
The problem with the people we have is that they've gotten far too comfortable.
They think we're going to fail. I can see it in their eyes when I speak with any of them, and when they look at me like that, I know we're going to fail. "
"What do you want to do about it, then?" He starts pulling food out of the fridge, setting it on the counter.
He's always had a tendency to cook when he's nervous.
If I were him, I'd be nervous about the way the war is going too.
We're in over our heads. I can admit that.
I let revenge cloud my vision for too long, and now it's bringing us toward chaos.
By the time I realized where adjustments needed to be made, it was almost too late.
Zoe had left, and she's always been the one to solve problems for me.
I drum my fingers on the side of my glass. "We need to boost morale. Open the auction to the men. Allow them to bid on the women they want."
"You think letting them buy themselves some whores is going to help them?"
I shrug. "Can't hurt. And apparently, there's a post-nut clarity the younger guys talk about. Might help them to have something worth fighting for."
"How are the women going to be worth fighting for? These are women that they're buying, not that they're going to turn into a wife and impregnate."
"Because some of those men are going to fall in love with the women they buy. They're young and impressionable, and if they stick their dicks in a woman, she's going to wrap them around her finger. And then I'm going to use those women as shields when we finally end this."
"You don't think that's only going to make the men less likely to fight?"
I smirk and sip the whiskey as he gets to work slicing up a roast to braise.
"No. They'll fight, and they'll do it well.
Anyone who goes to training and actually proves themselves worthy won't have their woman slaughtered in front of them.
And those who do have their woman slaughtered are going to be mad at the Lyndes, initially.
After all, it's going to be Lynde bullets riddling through the woman. "
Robert shakes his head and starts tossing the beef into the roaster. "Are you going to buy anyone at the auction?"
"Are you?"
He glances at me, a slight hint of guilt in his eyes. "Maybe the Lynde bitch. Teach her a lesson just when she thinks she's getting away from us."
"Uh huh." I eye him, knowing that there's more to it.
A slight shade of red creeps up past his collar, but that's not all.
I saw the way he looked at her the night he took her from me. He was half in love with her. Or at the very least, in lust.
It would piss him off to no end if I took her right from beneath him.
Might be worth it, even if it means having to put up with her some more. But would it bother him enough? I still can't trust him, and if I push him too far, he might get worse.
At the end of the day, though, he's still going to be my younger brother. He's going to be the man who falls in line and does what he's supposed to because that's what he's always done. If he knew anything about what was happening, he would have come to me.
He's the one person I know isn't involved in the shitstorm starting to build.
Robert gets the roast in the oven. "I have other business to take care of for the auction, but that needs to be in there for a few hours.
I'll send you a message when it's time to take it out.
And you should think about doing a dinner for the men soon.
We used to have them all the time when Dad was alive. "
I nod, turning the idea over in my head as he leaves the room.
Dinners might be a way to earn more loyalty with the men working for me. I'm going to need it in the coming months.
"This shipment looks good." I nod to the pallet of cocaine while Hector, my head enforcer, eyes the people bringing in more pallets. "We're going to have to work to move this quickly, though. The moment the Lyndes know it's here, they're going to torch it."
Hector tucks his hands in his pockets. "Teams are already on their way to pick it up, but there's something else you should know."
I arch an eyebrow, turning to him.
He shakes his head and leads the way outside and away from the warehouse, out beside our cars. None of the others are around to hear us.
"You've got a rat. Someone close to you, but you knew that already." Hector leans against his car and pulls out a cigarette, holding it to his lips and lighting it.
I shake my head when he goes to offer me one. "I did, so why are we standing over here and talking about it?"
"Because there's something big coming down the line. I've been talking to some people who have connections with those outside the family. They are willing to talk, for a price."
"Do I want to know how much this'll cost me?"
He shakes his head. "Probably best you don't ask. Didn't get a name from any of them but did find out there's something big coming. Not sure exactly what—none of them were high enough up to know—but apparently arms have been trading hands a lot this past week."
Not information I can use right now, but better than nothing.
If a lot of arms are moving, something is definitely in the works. My inventory numbers have been good, though, at least the ones I've seen, which means someone with the books is involved.
"Leave it for now, but keep an eye on the arms books. They're going to be off. Don't let anyone know what you're doing, though." I open my car door, prepared to go home and eat the roast I've been dreaming about all day.
"You sure?"
"Yes. I have an idea about who might be running things, but I don't want to spook them until I know for sure." It's a bluff, but I do have my suspicions.
And in the off chance I'm wrong and Hector is one of the ones involved with the traitors, then I don't want him knowing everything.
My father always said that was the key to staying in power: feed people a little bit of information at a time and feed different people different information. Eventually, the truth is going to come to light one way or another.
When it does, I want to be ready.
There's more than one way to catch a traitor, but I don't know if catching the traitor is going to cost me the war.