Chapter Thirteen
Two/face??
Stepping into the smoky room, all eyes turn to me.
“The fuck are you looking at?” I ask, eyeing Axe.
Pushing himself from his chair, he slowly approaches. I lift my chin slightly as the massive fucker has a couple of inches on me. His jaw ticks, and his eyes narrow before he speaks.
“It’s been almost a fucking week, and we’re still walking around with our thumbs up our fucking asses.”
Allowing my gaze to move to Jimmy, he sits by the log burner. A glass of whisky between his fingers as he gazes deep into the flames. Michael’s death hit us all hard in our own ways. Even though we were a team, we were also friends who relied on each other and worked towards the same common goal.
“We don’t even know if this was an attack on us Two!” Axe continues, turning away and dropping back into his chair. His head in his hands, shaking his head from the sheer frustration we all feel.
“Without proof, you know we’re not going after Harry; we don’t do that shit!” I relay the point once again. “If we do, we’re no better than the rest of the people we take off the streets.”
Lifting his head, the anger begins to radiate from his entire body. “
So, we just fucking wait? By the time he does slip up, he could be long gone.”
Keeping the rage at bay, I listen to Axe’s concerns. Whilst he’s correct, at any moment, Harry could leave and disappear if he chooses to, and we can’t allow that, but at the same time, we aren’t fucking mavericks. Everything we do is carefully analyzed, risks are weighed, and everyone knows what each mission result should be. Michael was in charge. He kept our egos in check, weighed up the risks, and planned for anything. We’re now missing an important cog in the machine, and it feels like any good thing we have ever done is now overshadowed by the want and need for revenge and the inability to think clearly.
I feel my eyes moving away from Axe’s intense gaze, not out of fear. But because I know he’s fucking right, and I hate it. Trying to keep everything together won’t work if we all have our own agendas. My gaze falls on Jimmy. He was always Michael’s right hand, the sensible one, the thinker and the one to set everything in motion to ensure we always reached our target. Right now, I see a man who’s lost and without a purpose.
“How’s the funeral coming along?” I ask, taking a seat by the log burner. Reaching for the whiskey and pouring a large shot. He momentarily pulls his eyes from the flames to look at me before turning back to answer.
“I passed Summer all the documents. The funeral is planned for this coming Tuesday.” I nod, listening intently, whilst he continues speaking into the fire. “Michael left her his entire estate, which we knew. I’m guessing she’ll plan to leave once it is all over. As you requested, I said I could send her the paperwork whilst she’s on the road to sell the businesses if that’s what she chooses to do.”
“She fucking better.” I spit out. Catching myself, I feel Jimmy’s gaze on me. He blinks a couple of times, studying my expression before leaning in.
“We have fucking eyes, Two. Whatever you’re playing at with her, stop. You’re watching her each night like a fucking stalker. You disappear. We both know where you’ll end up going.”
Throwing his arms up in the air, I feel his frustration over my behavior. But the truth is, I have no idea why I’m pulling her close and then pushing her away. Maybe because I can? Because she makes me feel things that haven’t surfaced for a long time, or maybe because she’s so fucking beautiful and full of hope, my own sickness wants to make her a dark and lonely shell like me.
Maybe I’m jealous?
“Those cameras were set up in Michael’s apartment for safety, you’re fucking using them like a private cam show.” Jimmy shakes his head in disbelief, and he isn’t far wrong.
The tension in the room is suffocating as the eyes continue to look towards me. The crackle of the wood fire is the only thing keeping the room from utter deafening silence, I feel myself slipping further into my own internal chaos as each moment passes, but I know I need to address my obsession with Summer before it fucking kills me or I lose the chance altogether.
“I got a call this morning about a job,” Jimmy finally speaks, as we all turn to him, eager for the details and something we can take our pent-up frustrations on. “This one came via a different channel though,” Axe and I both feel our gaze meeting for an initial moment, but we need this right now.