“While Dad was alive he ran things.” Charlie was the most innocent of the three of us. “He kept everything close to his vest. He was afraid that we would end up in prison like you. Then the county took forever to hand over his body and conclude their investigation. We were being investigated while we grieved our father.”
What a crock of shit. My father only cared that he never got caught. “Yeah, well at least you got to say goodbye to him.”
Yet another thing I would get my revenge for.
I turned to Keith, the middle child and the one who my father was closest to. “Did you even try?”
Keith handed me a beer and slouched into the sofa that had once been a bright floral. “Of course, I did. After you left, he closed ranks. He didn’t want anyone touching his business. Was pissed off you had signed those divorce papers and that custody agreement. Those kids are Rippers and we never got to even see them.”
That was something I intended to fix. According to my lawyer I needed to petition for supervized visits first. Fuck that bullshit. Those kids were mine. “She threatened to tell the authorities everything she knew. Is that what dad wanted?” I knew the answer. My dad was not good at covering his tracks. “I don’t have my kids because dad didn’t know the definition of discreet and somehow that’s my fault?”
Keith frowned at me. “She had nothing on us. All she saw were some of your meetings. You said she never overheard the conversations.”
I shook my head because that was not exactly true. I remembered that conversation the one and only time she visited. The little bitch was defiant as she laid out the terms. She didn’t know a lot, but enough to launch an investigation. I shook my head and focused on my other problem. “She’s not living in the apartment. According to the landlord she moved out before the lease was even up.”
Charlie nodded. “She’s living at Forte Femme.”
God, that ridiculous name. “With a bunch of women?”
“No.” Keith shook his head. “I think it's just her and the kids. And that rich bitch. Snow’s sister. Brittany or Stephanie or something.”
“She’s living with Tiffany Snow?” My life just got easier. I could get my wife back and off the sister of that asshole in one go. “You guys ever heard any rumors about someone called The Rival?”
Keith frowned at me and shook his head. “He a player?”
“Yes. But I’m not sure what his deal is. I don’t think he’s a dealer or a buyer.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to let them know he’d been the one to send me the video footage. “Just a name I heard while I was inside. Apparently, great with intel.”
That part I believed considering the video footage which arrived in my inbox a week before I was released. I had to consider who would send it to me and why. Someone wanted Theo Snow out of the way and they wanted me to do it.
I was nobody’s lackey. As much as I intended to get my revenge on that asshole. First, I wanted my wife and children back. I didn’t care about the divorce papers or the custody agreement. They were mine. And I intended to make Maggie suffer for taking all that away from me.
In all the time that we were together, not once had I hit her. Not that she didn’t deserve it, but she had the kind of family that would’ve interfered if they saw so much as a scratch on her. And I never could keep her away from that bunch of do gooders. That was one of the first things I intended to change.
But first I needed to get to her. I needed to make her scared. A plan formed. I darted a look between my brothers. “Where is the safe with the shotguns?”
They shared a look and I clenched my fists.
Keith narrowed his eyes on me. “Fred, you cannot be caught with a weapon. We cannot risk this house being raided. Besides the stash being confiscated. You’ll go back to prison and we’ll be joining you.”
Fucking pussies. “We won’t get caught. No one raises a brow at a gunshot in this neighborhood. All I want is to go out backand shoot a pigeon or something. It's been so long since I’ve shot something.”
Keith stood and took his keys from the dish at the door. He pulled off one key and tossed it to me. “You know where the safe is. Let’s not pretend you’ve forgotten.”
I caught the key and walked to my dad’s old bedroom that Keith was now using. I slipped into his closet and moved the clothes at the back. The steel door was a little more chipped than I remembered but otherwise undamaged. The lock snicked open and I entered the code. One, Two, Three, Four. Fucking idiots didn’t even change the code after dad died. I looked among the small stash we kept in the house. It was nothing compared to what we had in the container outback but it was useful.
My fingers teased over the fancy assault rifles and the newer pistols. I couldn’t wait to see how those babies operated. But all of them were too fancy for what I needed. Finally, I spotted my dad’s shotgun. It was old and had been handed down from my grandfather, but it would serve the purpose for the first step in getting my family back.
I pulled it off the grips that kept it in place. My palms fit perfectly around it. I held it up and took aim. “Yup. You’re exactly what I need.”
Opening the little drawer at the bottom of the safe, I scratched through it. Patience was not my strong suit. Especially when I could see my plan taking shape.
Slowly, and thoughtfully I loaded the shotgun. I wish I could see her face when she found my little gift. I closed my eyes, smiling as the image filled my mind. She’d be excited to open the package, but that would soon turn to terror and her pretty mouth would let out a scream. She’d see the bird and know it was me. I’d even include a note. She’d know but there would be no way to prove it. She’d know she was in danger, but wouldn’tget any help because the package would not be traced back to me.
There was some joy to be found when the cops showed up and told her there was nothing they could do. Maybe she would even be at the door when that happened and I would be able to catch a glimpse of her face. Yes. That would need to be enough.
I walked though the house holding the rifle at my side as I went.
Keith was back in the kitchen, probably making another fucking sandwich. “What the fuck are you doing?”
