I’m confused, so I yet again shake my head at him. “I don’t understand what you’r–”
Chris stops when we finally reach the clearing, just as Fredrick and Heyman do the same. As the guards form a barricade around both of them, leaving the center open, I look ahead, and a sob hitches out of me as soon as I see him.
“Dorran…” his name slips past my bruised lips, and tears start falling down my cheeks when his familiar, expressive blue eyes meet mine.
26.
Dorran’s gaze roves over me as he studies me, presumably looking for a serious injury. However, as his eyes travel lower, his lips curl into a silent snarl when he sees Chris’s hand wrapped around my arm.
Rightfully terrified, Chris releases me and takes half a step away from me, which instantly triggers the guards behind us into moving closer to him and I.
He glances between them and Dorran, then sighs and shifts towards me again.
A short beat passes, and I feel a firm friction against the cable tie that’s wrapped around my wrists. I try not to react to it, and keep my expression neutral as Chris – with his body angled in such a way that it hides what he’s doing – clips off the cable tie, freeing my hands. Slipping away from behind me, he then repositions himself next to me, sliding what looks like a small flush cutter into his right pant pocket.
Relieved by the absence of the pain the cable tie was causing me, I subtly twist my wrists to release some of the tension on them, all the while making sure to keep my hands exactly where they are. Pressing the broken edges of the cable tie against my dress so that I can keep them hidden, I give Chris a brief glance, and find him looking straight ahead, his features tight and void of emotion.
“Thank you,” I say in a breathy whisper, soft enough so that the guards can’t hear me.
His shoulders shake as he sighs, then gives me a quick yet faint nod.
As I look forward again, I find Varsha scanning the hedges with a sharp lift of her brows. Solo and Alex have their attention on the guards shielding Fredrick and Heyman, whereas Safiya, who is standing next to Dorran, scowls at Aras when he glances her way with a scrunched up, almost irritated look on his face. Magner is frowning, but it’s hard to tell if it’s because of Aras or Fredrick.
Speaking of the Balbo-bearded nutsack…
He balances his weight from one foot to the other as he surveys the crew, then taps the butt of his cane against the tip of his shoe before pressing it into the ground. I don’t think I’ve had the chance to notice the details on it yet, but now that I see it, I realize that the cane’s head – bronze and gleaming – is curved in the shape of a crocodile’s head, with the rest of it painted mahogany, and modeled in a braided fashion. It’s a beautiful little thing, one I would very much like to crack Fredrick’s skull open with.
“Who among you is Dorran Ledger?” His question is laced with blatant mockery.
“You think this is funny, Fred?” Aras asks, his jaw hardening as he narrows his eyes at the old fuck. “Cignette is one of my guests, and your actions tonight have violated my assurance of undivided safety for her.”
“And her cruelty towards Timothy – wasn’t that a violation?” Fred challenges. “I thought we had an agreement; a…friendship of sorts.”
Dorran’s nostrils flare as he glowers at Fred, but keeps his mouth shut.
“Ourpartnershipdoes not give you the authority of abducting and hurting my guests, Fredrick,” Aras states in a leveled voice.
“What about my son, then?” he counters. “Washenot one of your guests? Was his safety not important enough?”
Aras slides his hands into his pant pockets and clicks his tongue. “Well, he did stick his nose into my business. Quite literally.”
I watch as Fredrick’s entire body goes rigid after Aras’s indirect admission. And the guards? Yeah, they are just as surprised.
Fredrick moves forward, but Heyman stops him before he can reach Aras. “You had my sonkilled,” he hisses. “You killed my Timothy! You cu–”
“Let’s not turn this into a pity fucking party, shall we?” Magner shoulders in. “Your son fucked up, and he paid the price for it. One life for the dozens his unsanctioned side hustle caused us. We lost passionate, hardworking men, Fred. I’d say the scale has been balanced now, unfair as it still is to us. And before you bullshit us with lies, let me make it clear that we refuse to believe you had no hand in this. You took advantage of our partnership, so it’s only natural that you suffer the consequences of it now.”
Magner is right; Timothy told me he sold drugs toReign’sboxers to bring in extra cash and impress Fred. If that’s the case, then it’s obvious Fred knew where the money was coming from, and despite that, he didn’t stop his son from breaching the initial agreement between himself and Aras.
“If you wanted to get back to me for this, you could have pickedmeinstead of Tim,” Fred says.
“Why punish you when I could very easily pluck the offender off my path?” Aras provides, his expression at ease. “And it just so happens that I’ve ruffled your feathers by having your son killed, which means I made the right choice.”
“Do you even know what it’s like to lose a child?” Fred questions with a menacing edge in his voice, then scoffs and shakes his head. “Of course you don’t.”
“I’m sure you’ll live, Fred,” Dorran retorts. “It’s not like you were doing wonders for your son when he was alive, and I can tell you aren’t exactly the ‘Father of The Year’ type, so stop with the holier than thou bullshit and give me back my Cignette.”
“Oh…” Fredrick’s demeanor shifts at Dorran’s words. He once again taps his cane against his shoe, then clicks his tongue. “Giveher to you, eh?” He brings a hand behind him and vaguely gestures for me to come forward.
