Chapter 36 Luke #2
After entering the dark room, I immediately see a dancer suspended twenty feet in the air on long strips of fabric and nothing else. It’s a mesmerizing show, but I’m worried she could plunge to her death at any moment.
Knowing Henrik, he’s at a VIP table on the balcony.
I ascend the stairs, avoiding several hungry gazes of females before spotting a table surrounded by six-foot-tall models.
In the center of the fray is my brother, sporting his dark hair and electric smile.
He sees me, standing up to gesture me over and wave off the security detail keeping the strays out.
He knows better than to yell my name and get attention, but as I make my way over, the women with him turn toward me with sultry smiles.
“Ladies, ladies, this gentleman here is a rare breed. What do you make, Lynx—a few mil a week?” He winks at me, the use of my old nickname from our days on the SEAL Team pulling a smirk from me.
“Only in a recession.”
He slaps his knee, shaking his head as the girls visibly migrate closer to me.
Thanks a lot, asshole.
He shifts out from around the table to pull me into a bro hug, motioning a waitress over.
“What are you drinking?” he asks.
“Bourbon, neat.”
She blinks her fake lashes at me before disintegrating into the moving crowd.
“So, you don’t usually crawl out of your green paper hole, even for a piece of California ass. What’s up?”
“I want to go after Lion.”
The girls look innocent enough with their pink drinks, but I’m never too careful.
His smile fades at my words. He knows exactly who I’m referring to.
Henrik has never agreed with me about Garrison’s guilt.
He didn’t see what I saw, and the idea of one of our own turning on us doesn’t sit well with him.
None of us wanted to believe there was a mole on the team.
Garrison was the planner, the one who could lie and wait an eternity for the right moment to attack.
He was also our leader—hence his codename.
Henrik’s grave expression is unmistakable for disapproval. “You ever gonna give it up, Lynx? Someone else shot Reid. None of us did it. The FBI is going to give it up because they won’t find proof that isn’t there.”
“He did it, and he won’t get away with it.”
He shakes his head, downing the liquid in his glass. “You’re a paranoid bastard. You need to enjoy the civilian life. Shit’s not that bad. Beats running from bullets and chasing Russian bastards with branding irons.”
Henrik had a brush with death when he was captured by the enemy and tortured for a day and a half. I know he has scars, but I’ve never seen them.
I think of Kate and the potential of pursuing a relationship with her.
How will I ever feel peace with the volatility of my sister’s husband and his Russian allies?
This is the only way.
“I need your help. I’ve been searching for proof for two years, but I need an ally and a solid plan. They came after me and my assistant.” The FBI claims it was a revenge scheme, but I don’t buy it.
His brows scrunch up at the mention of Kate. “Your assistant?”
He saw clearly at the wedding how I feel about Kate.
“Never mind. I have a plan to flush out Lion once and for all.”
A redhead with unnaturally puffy lips slips under his arm. I refuse the blonde who attempts to sneak into mine.
“What does this have to do with me?” he asks.
“I need a brother, an accomplice. You were there. You’re the one who reads people.” He was the infiltrator, the Snake. “Come with me to confront him and convince him to leave Fallon.”
He looks into my eyes for another moment before finally nodding. Excitement bursts through me as I realize this is really happening—finally.
“All right, I’ll play along. I’ll help you prove the truth. Find the guilty party for Fox’s death.”
Fox was Reid, the sly, cunning one.
I grin, clapping my hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Now?”
He sighs when he sees the look on my face, looking down at the red head longingly. He whispers something in her ear.
The FBI can kiss my ass for all the shit they haven’t done the past two years. It’s time for us to take things into our own hands.
We exit the club together. I suck in a breath of clean air once I emerge on the street.
New York City brings a dark cloud over my mood.
My fists are clenched around the aircraft’s controls, knuckles white.
He’s my sister’s husband now, but I’ll always be her brother. Despite Fallon going temporarily insane and choosing to stay with a murderer, it’s time to tell Garrison the lengths I’m willing to go if he ever hurts her.
The wheels roll onto the private tarmac in New York right as sunrise breaks over the horizon.
I wish Kate were here to see this.
I impulsively snap a photo when the jet comes to a halt, hitting Send before I have time to think it through.
Not yours. Not yours.
She texts back quickly with the heart-eyes emoji, and I force myself not to respond.
“Never thought I’d see you whipped like this, Lynx.” Henrik observes from behind me.
I pocket the device. After landing the plane smoothly, we walk down to the tarmac.
I exhale a sigh of relief that the silver sports car I requested is already waiting for us. One advantage of having money is rarely waiting. It’s not the top of the line, but it will fit in with the area we’re traveling to.
Fallon and Garrison attend church every Sunday. I wonder if he feels a stab of guilt when they teach about Judas, the betrayer.
She told me yesterday that she already had a bachelorette weekend planned with a friend and would be gone until Sunday evening.
I roll up to the ancient stone structure as the congregation filters into the building. There’s valet parking. I let the kid take my keys before Henrik and I walk over to the Starbucks located across the street.
After being up most of the night from stress, I need the caffeine. I also want to confirm Garrison’s attendance before I go into the building. The barista makes me my Americano quickly, and I sip on it as I sit near the window.
There.
The sight of his blonde hair and broad shoulders sends red-hot anger through me. The sickening vision of Reid’s body thrusting forward from the gunshot flashes in my brain, as real to me now as it was in the darkness that night.
I’m going to be sick.
I force the air out of my lungs and back in for several beats as my heart rate begins to retreat to a standard pace.
Garrison enters the building, and I take a few moments to inhale slowly before standing up and following him into the church with Henrik on my heels.
“Let’s give him a chance to say his piece, Bradshaw.”