I shrug like I don’t care, when I, in fact, care quite a lot. I don’t like her name on his lips, so I force myself to unclench my fist and remember it’s all part of the end goal.
“Never wondered where your little niece ran off to?”
He scoffs. “I’m still working out what happened to the girl. Shame, too, because she’s rightfully beautiful, but a stain on this family that needs to be cleaned up.”
God, the man is a leaky fucking faucet of information.
I just tilt my head and stare at him, knowing the longer I remain silent, the more likely he is to spill. He’s always been like this.
“That can’t possibly be why you’re here?” He says, walking to the bar in the corner of the room and pouring me a drink.
I ignore him when he returns until he has to set it down on the small end table I’m standing next to. My hands in my pockets, not a muscle moving. He stares at me for a moment, confused, and then returns to his original seat.
“I know you’re young, son, but everyone knows what a whore of a woman her mother was. I guess the gossip of the older Bonesmen hasn’t worked its way down to the younger generation yet!” He laughs, his cheeks red and ruddy, clearly on the edge of drunkenness.
Still, I don’t move. What a pathetic man. I haven't had to throw a single threat, and yet he’s giving me every drop of information that had taken me weeks to gather, in mere seconds.
Finally, I decided it was time to speak. “Is that why the Brotherhood never assigned her to be Archie’s Chosen?”
That gets his attention.
He hides it poorly. Just a flicker, but I see it.
He didn’t expect that question.
“She’s a bastard kid, what do you care?”
And there it is. I can see the moment he thinks he has me figured out. But he can’t even see I walked him to his own admission. I wanted him right here. I needed him to verify what I had anticipated all along. What I was nearly certain of but needed to hear from a Huntington-Russell.
Martine’s mother got pregnant with her, against her will, at Seraphim.
Douglass leans back, feigning casual. “Should have been killed if you ask me, but I think my brother was waiting to use her for something.” I don’t believe him one bit.
I just stare.
“That can’t be why you’re here. The Brotherhood sent you here for the girl?”
I smirk. “You know they never give us the whole story,” I brush him off, stepping closer until I’m towering over him, “And I’m here on a personal visit.”
He gulps at the menacing expression that’s started to cross my face.
“Bullshit.”
“You see, you’re standing in my wife’s home right now.”
“Yourwhat?!” He shouts, wobbling up out of his chair and letting his glass fall to the ground. The only sound to be heard is his heavy breathing and the glass shattering on the marble floor.
I reach forward for the collar of his shirt and yank him the rest of the way up.
I step closer. My voice drops. “Now let’s be clear about this,” I say as I give him a slight shake, “You’ll leave this property immediately alive, or I’ll end your life inside of it.” I snarl.
A man like Douglass wouldn’t hesitate to kill Martine; it’s, in fact, his ultimate goal. The estate falling to the forgotten daughter is a crime against Douglass in the highest regard. I knew he had been looking for her, but my contacts let me know he hadn’t gotten far.
What I did find out was the direction to get her with whatever force necessary. Bring her body to him, dead or alive, for him to “clean up” their little family blunder.
“I don’t answer to you, Herron.”
“You will if you value your life.”
