“Exactly,” Maeve said.
“But what would we be trying to accomplish?” Remy asked.
“Todd’s a loose cannon,” Maeve said. “That much was obvious from his debate performance.”
The Apex debate hadn’t been posted to the Ethan Todd’s social media accounts — a sign that he’d lost — but ithadbeen posted by a couple people who’d been in the audience and who’d turned the clip into video takedowns of Ethan Todd.
It hadn’t been an obvious loss. There had been no ironclad points made by his opponent that had shut down Todd’s arguments, but he’d struggled. His train of thought had been rambling and tangential, more rants than coherent arguments, and he’d raised his voice more than once, his tenor on the verge of mania.
It hadn’t been the triumphant return hoped for by his followers, and more than one of them had turned on him online, claiming Todd had lost his touch.
Served him fucking right.
“He’s obviously unhinged if he’s sending the police here,” Poe said. “It shines a light on us, but it shines a light on him too.”
Detective Rodriguez didn’t say Todd was the one who’d called in the tip, but we weren’t idiots. He must have given thedetective his name as a way to build credibility, although his name probably wasn’t the flex he thought it was, especially to a female cop who probably had to deal with more than her share of toxic male bullshit.
“I agree,” Maeve said. “Even in Romania, he didn’t seem stable.”
“Has he ever been stable?” Remy asked.
“Not exactly,” Maeve said. “But he was able to hold it together in public. He was able to come off as commanding and smart. He was a mess at Apex, and it’s been even worse on his last two shows.”
Remy thought about it. “You think we can get him to slip up? Drop a hint about where he is?”
“I’m not saying there’s a guarantee.” This was a real fucking plot twist. I was usually the one telling Poe and Remy to cool it, be patient. Wait. “But it’s the only way to get to him right now, and I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking sick of playing cat and mouse.”
I longed to feel Todd’s bones crumble under my fist, to feel his flesh open up under my knife. But right now we had exactly one way to tell him to his face what a fucking pussy coward sorry excuse for a man he was.
“Beyond sick of it,” Maeve said.
Poe looked at me. “I agree. We have nothing to lose by confronting him.”
We all looked at Remy.
Finally, he nodded slowly. “Okay, then. Let’s set out some cheese for the mouse.”
51
ETHAN
I lookedat my smart watch in the sauna, then reluctantly rose to leave. It was less than twenty minutes to my next live show, and I didn’t want to be late.
Three weeks after the Apex debacle and I was finally feeling back in the groove: getting in my regular workouts, stocked up on all my supplements, and finally seeing my vitals return to normal.
Getting out of the States had changed everything, and I was actively working on a plan to make sure I’d never have to return. Going back the last time had been a mistake — clearly — and I wasn’t about to make the same mistake again. Not when I had such nice digs far, far away from the Blackwell Butchers.
As for Maeve Haver, well, that part was a shame.
I’d been so close to adding her to my operation, using her as a reminder that for all Bram Montgomery’s dick-swinging, I’d come out ahead in the end.
Oh well. What mattered was that I was free, and I’d sent Bram Montgomery and his friends a little gift in Detective Rodriguez, who would hopefully keep the Butcher’s on their toes for quite a while.
I still worried about my phone, but so far I hadn’t been contacted by the police or the FBI, and I was starting to believe Montgomery hadn’t been able to get into it.
I toweled off and slipped on a black Ferragamo track suit, then headed for the spacious studio I’d set up in my new rental. It was large and luxurious enough to make the Times Square Marriott a distant memory, and I vowed never to put myself in a position to be that miserable again.
I’d learned my lesson, and a big part of that lesson was to stay far away from the Blackwell Butchers.
