35
Ty
Liam, Kyle, and Tara set Ivan Blackmore Jr. up in the same room where they’d interrogated Kyzer. I watched on a screen with Mick from the safety of the main warehouse as Junior started to come to.
Aside from the way his hair was disheveled from the scuffle, he resembled the picture Mick had pulled up. He had his father’s dark locks and bushy eyebrows, but his lips were much fuller and he had a distinctive cleft in his chin. He also bore a scar on his left cheek that left me wondering what sort of criminal activity he’d been involved in that had left the mark on him.
He was cuffed to the chair the way Liam had done with Kyzer, and his head shifted about, his pink lips twitching with his movements.
Mick played with a joystick on his desk, which shifted the recording camera connected on a tripod in the interrogation room. He typed a description of Junior’s physical appearance, as depicted in the recording. “So you keep notes for…”
“My own records. We’ll send the tape over to the IPB if we can get a confession. They’ll handle the rest of the investigation once we have something to work off of.”
I took a deep breath. I couldn’t believe we’d really done it.
I’d been there for a fucking mission. It seemed more like a bizarre nightmare—attendees cheering at a death match…seducing and kissing Lez…fearing for Liam’s life.
As soon as we got back to our base, even as Liam helped me tend to my injuries, it was evident he was pissed. He didn’t fuss or make a big deal out of what I’d done, but I knew he wasn’t going to let that go. I’d be hearing about it at some point.
But what the fuck was I supposed to do when I saw that guy kick his face into the rail? Sit back and let it happen?
Fortunately, my injuries were starting to numb with the help of Ibuprofen. Although, my pride diminished with my pain. I was as useless as ever while Liam managed to take the guy out in an instant. I reminded myself they were trained for that. Hell, I hadn’t even been in very many fights in my life. A few scuffles, but nothing where I would have feared for my fucking life. Still, didn’t make me feel much better that the only thing I could do to assist was lure some asshole to a back room so that someone else could knock him out.
“That was really brave of you,” Mick said, as though reading my mind. His comment took me by surprise. “You could have just as easily run off and let Liam fend for himself, which really, would have been the smarter thing to do in that moment, but we all noticed what you did there. And it does mean a lot to us when people take care of one of our own.”
“You gonna tell Liam that?” I teased, and he laughed.
“Oh, hell no. He’s pissed. Probably more so at us for letting you even come along, but regardless of how Liam feels, we all thought it was really cool.”
“Thanks, Mick.”
Mick checked the monitor and said, “Oh, here we go.”
I turned to watch as Junior’s eyelids flitted open.
“Morning, Mr. Blackmore,” Liam said, stepping into the frame. He wore a black ski mask, same as Tara and Kyle. Unlike with Kyzer, whom Liam clearly trusted to some extent, they apparently weren’t taking chances with Junior.
“You guys are in a world of trouble for what you just did,” Junior said.
“No, no, Ivan. You’re in a world of trouble.” Liam grabbed the bottom of his ski mask and pulled it off, revealing his face to Blackmore. It was evident by the terror in his eyes that he knew who Liam was, and why he was in so much trouble.
And I knew that was why Liam had revealed his identity. If Junior had been in charge of the hit and recognized his face, that meant they’d been right all along.
Despite his evident guilt, Ivan didn’t confess to anything right away. And Liam was far quicker to use his fists to press for a confession. As soon as Tara got to talking about appendages, I felt my stomach churn and wished Mick a good night. Liam would debrief me on anything important.
I wouldn’t have thought I would be able to get any rest, but I supposed all the excitement made it that much easier for me to drift off.
Wasn’t sure how long I was asleep before I felt a warm touch against my face.
I knew that touch—had memorized it. I inhaled his smell, appreciating that he had returned to me. I opened my eyes and saw him on his knees beside the air mattress. I noticed some blood on his shirt, though his hands and face were clean, making me wonder if he’d washed them off before returning to me.
“Busy night at the office?” I joked.
I understood why the guys were so quick to make jokes, even during something as serious as that mission. How could you get through any of this crap without a sense of humor?
“Very busy.”
He ran his hand up my cheek, where it was still tender from where that guy had slammed his fists into my face.
