Fuck.
It took me a moment longer to realize who stood behind them.
Doublefuck.
CHAPTER 22
BONER
This sucks hairy donkey balls.
Harlow
"Who the—" Jules started, taking a step inside.
"Solomon Danforth," I said softly.
I hated my lack of surprise at seeing my father's old friend standing beside Archer's chair, a long knife in his hand. His thinned lips looked thinner, framed by his greying mustache and neat beard.
"Harlow, are you going to introduce me to your friends?" With the knife, he gestured toward Cass and Jules.
"After you tell me what the hell you're doing here," I said.
Okay I knew 'what.' The real question was how. How had he known to find us here?
Boner shouted out a warning, his words muffled by the duct tape. With an exaggerated movement, he nodded toward the doorway behind us.
I turned as someone familiar stepped into the apartment, a faint smile on her lips.
"Gina? What are you doing here?" I stepped back against Cass, standing side on. My gaze going from her to Solomon.
By the time I turned back to her, I understood what was going on.
"How long have you been working with him?" I asked, my tone laced with venom.
She stepped past us with confident strides, making her way to stand beside Solomon.
"Since before I worked for you," she said easily. "How else would he know to try to obtain your recipes? It would have been easier if you were more forthcoming." She inspected her nails and shrugged.
"If this is just about recipes—" I started. I'd give all of them to him if he'd walk out of here right now.
"It's not," Solomon said, interrupting with a curt tone. The same one he used on his staff. "Your employee here has been very helpful for keeping an eye on you. Profitable for my restaurant and beneficial for my associates."
"You're Eros." Cass looked like he might leap over one of the chairs and wrap his hands around Solomon's throat.
"Cassius Titmus," Solomon said. "And your brother, Julius."
"You already know who we are." Jules was even angrier than his brother. "I know what you did to our brother Augustus."
"I did nothing to him," Solomon said easily. "That was all Granger. He's dead, I presume?"
"Very dead," I agreed. I turned my attention to Gina. "Do you know what this man is? The things he does?"
"I know the thingsyoudo," she sneered. "You think you're better than him, but you're not. ThegraciousHarlow St. James, patron saint of the homeless, the abused. It's a façade."
"Yes, it is," I agreed. "Like your façade. Pretending to work for me while conspiring with him behind my back. He must have paid you well."
"Very well," she agreed.
