Page 17 of Guardian
My stomach drops.What does that mean?
Suddenly making out seems a lot less fun.A glance at my watch tells me it’s a little after midnight.Hopefully this thing is over soon.
Chapter Six
Liam
When I findBrennan Doyle at Belle Argo Executive Links, one of the private courses here in town, he’s still playing his first hole.
“I thought this place closed at seven.”By the time I finished searching Ravi’s room and got the call back from Sal about Brennan’s location, dusk was bleeding into the sky.Now, it’s past the time when most decent people would be turning in for the night.
Brennan Doyle, whose neck tattoo makes a liar out of the neatly pressed khakis and golf shirt he’s wearing, gives me a shit-eating grin.
“For other people, sure.You gotta be willing to tip well,” he says.“And you gotta know the right people.”
When he nods his head at the person playing with him, I realize he looks familiar.Ty Danes.The fucking county prosecutor.Of course.
No wonder Brennan Doyle never sees the inside of a cell.
All my intentions of going into this calm fly out the window when I blurt, “What the hell do you think you’re doing putting a kid up for auction like a piece of meat, you sick bastard?”
Brennan lowers the driver he’d been about to swing and cuts his gaze over to Ty.“I am definitely not putting a child up for auction,” he says slowly.“I am facilitating a charity auction in which the prize is a twenty-four-hour-long date with a legal adult, and there is no expectation of sex.”
Jesus, that’s rich.Like throwing out the word charity makes dirty old men bidding for the kid’s innocence any less disgusting.I’m itching to break this guy’s fucking face.
“A charity auction?Are you fucking high?What’s the charity?You?”
Brennan’s grin raises my hackles.It’s sharp and smug and has a heavy dose of I-know-something-you-don’t-know.He probably does.That’s why I’m here.
Still, I’d like to take a chunk out of his flesh or break his kneecap for that smarmy, self-congratulating look of his.Not to mention his ridiculous fucking baby face.Brennan Doyle is a couple of years older than I am, but he’s got the look of a man half his age.Can’t even see any stubble from here.Surely that would justify shooting both kneecaps.
Brennan plants his driver in the grass, leaning on it like a cane.“It’s an education fund.A private education fund.Proceeds go to the youngmanbeing auctioned.”The way he leans heavily on the word “man” doesn’t help my mood.
Before I know it, I’ve drawn my gun, barrel aimed at Doyle’s smug face.
“I’d be careful if I were you, Mr.Masters.”He gestures to the two caddies off to the side, one of whom is obviously security.He’s taller and leaner than Brennan and more heavily tattooed.He’s got a golf bag over one shoulder and one hand holding the pistol that’s aimed my way.The other caddy is a lanky redhead who looks barely able to handle the thirty or so pounds of weight in the golf bag he’s carrying.But he’s also pointing a gun in my direction.
Brennan Doyle’s not only selling kids.He’s also arming them.Big fucking surprise.
This is what I get for charging in here without clearing my head.Ravi drives me so fucking crazy I can’t see straight.With the odds against me and the course exit half a mile from this tee, my only move is to holster my weapon.
I study Brennan, debating how to proceed.It’s impossible to live in Belle Argo without knowing who he is, but our interactions until now have been minimal.Thank fuck.
“How much would it take for you to call it off?”
“More than you’ve got.”Brennan laughs, making me want to shoot him anyway and damn the consequences.
Piece of shit.
“How the hell would you know how much money I have?”My general wardrobe may be a T-shirt and tactical pants, making me look like nobody special, but my company is doing well.Only three years after retiring from the military, I’ve got nearly a dozen employees, and we make a premium by taking on investigation cases, search and rescue, and even the occasional hit that’s too hot for anyone else to handle.
“Seriously?”The look I get from Brennan suggests he genuinely doesn’t understand my question.“I know your line of work, Liam Masters, so IknowI don’t need to tell you how many sickos are willing to pay for an innocent kid on the black market.Now you take a young man like Ravi, all legal and shit, but also super naive, with big anime kitten eyes and the physical stature of someone who’s not yet old enough to drive?What the hell do you think is going to happen?”
“You disgusting piece of shit.”Reducing Ravi to a cartoon fantasy for pedophiles?My gun may be back in its holster, but I haven’t taken my hand off the grip.I should empty my clip into him for that line alone.“They’re going to tear him apart like a pack of rabid dogs.”
The thought compresses my lungs.I try not to picture the kind of damage the wrong buyer could do.I’ve seen too much not to.
“They’ll pry open their bank accounts like it’s a goddamn fire sale.”He raises one speculative eyebrow.“You know, you don’t give the young man enough credit.”
