Page 76 of Sleeping with the Dark (The Righteous 3)
“Hold up.” Arek held out his arm, catching Cody in the gut. He let out a groan with the sudden impact. Before he could ask what the fuck was going on, Arek grabbed him by the arm and pulled him behind a nearby parked truck.
“What the hell are you doing?” Cody looked through the dark window trying to make out Spike or who he was talking to.
“The guy that Spike is talking to, I know him. Well, know him is too strong a word. I’ve seen him before,” Arek whispered.
Cody stared at the man as Spike stepped off to the side and handed off a white envelope. “He looks like a random guy. I’ve never seen him before here, but that looked like money Spike handed over.” The truck owner looked over at them, and Cody nodded to the truck owner and smiled. “Sick truck, best vehicle here,” he called out, lying through his teeth.
The guy nodded and turned back to his discussion. “That fucker.” Arek’s voice dropped the words gravelly as he continued to swear.
“Who is he?”
“Let’s just say I saw him at an arcade.” Arek pulled the hood up on his sweater despite the warm weather. “I need to follow him.”
“What about Spike?”
“I’ll deal with him another time. I don’t believe in coincidences, and this is too big of one to pass up.”
“Alright, let’s go,” Cody said as the random man walked away from Spike. The guy hunched his shoulders down like he was trying to make himself small as he made his way along the opposite sidewalk. He was heading the way they’d arrived, and Arek waited until he was a good distance ahead before they followed. They reached the intersection they’d emerged from, but the man continued to walk toward a green suped-up Civic further down the road.
Arek burst into a jog for the Porsche, but before Cody made it to the parking space, Arek turned and caught him off guard with the hardest right hook he’d ever felt. Unable to stop his momentum, he slammed hard into the fist which connected with his jaw like a sledgehammer. He was thrown back and knocked on his ass like a cartoon character. He saw stars and little birds as he crumbled to the ground in a heap.
“Sorry, man, but I can’t take you. If you die, both your sister and Trev will be devastated. Can’t have that shit on my conscience.”
Cody shook his head, trying to clear it of the ringing, and managed to get himself half-upright, leaning against the brick wall when the Porsche sped out of the lot past him.
“Son of a bitch.”
This was definitely a bad idea.
Trev tapped the steering wheel, his fingers in time to the classic Mozart concerto playing. It wasn’t doing much to soothe the tension tightening his shoulders and making his head pound.
His mind kept going around and around as he thought about all he’d learned. It had become very clear that someone was setting Maeve up, but the question that was circling the drain in his brain was why. From what he’d learned, Maeve was a recruiter—she found those that needed and wanted a second chance at life and offered them an opportunity to turn their shit around.
Did she take out targets? Maeve was one of Morry’s girls. That screamed loud and clear if she needed to protect herself, she would do what she had to. The thing was, she couldn’t think of a single target that would piss off someone with political or financial backing. It had to be one or the other, possibly both, to be able to pull off this manufactured illusion. Was she a random target? Someone fit the bill for this murder, and whoever was covering this up had more to do with the dead detective than they did her. That still didn’t explain the mysterious call on his phone.
“I need a drink,” Trev mumbled as he made the final turn toward the house. The motion detectors and garage door opened as he pulled into the driveway and effortlessly slid the Bentley into its spot. He was happy to be back at the house, and the added security features were a bonus.
It didn’t look like Arek was home, which was good. He had other ideas about releasing this pent-up frustration, and all of those ideas were tied around one particular silver-eyed man.
He placed his hand on the security panel just as his phone rang. Speak of the devil. “Hey there, I just got home. I’ll see you in a minute.”
“I’m not home. Fuck, my head hurts. Your brother is an asshole,” Cody groaned.
Trev froze in place, his instincts for disaster spiking. “Well, that is something that I already knew, but where are you two?”
“Okay, don’t kill me.” The phone went silent, but he could still hear Cody breathing. “Arek wanted to come down to the races and see if he could figure out who ratted us out and got Ray killed,” Cody said, the words tumbling out quickly. “He doesn’t want you to stop taking missions from The Righteous and thought if he could find the rat, you would give up the idea.”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
“Shit, Trev, I should’ve tried to stop him, got him to talk to you first. I shouldn’t have gone with him, but fuck,” Cody paused, his breathing loud. “I needed to find out who killed Ray. I hope you understand.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Cody relayed the story all while Trev opened the hidden panel of weapons and chose his favorite gun. He loaded it and grabbed an extra clip as he stomped toward Delilah. “I don’t know where he went, but Trev, I’m really, really, fucking sorry.”
“I’ll find him. Do you need a ride?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
