“You’re not involved, fine, but who is?”
Derek cocked his head curiously in my direction.
“You’re very careful with your words. I’ve met men like you before. You don’t lie. You choose what you say so that you aren’t lying, while you also omit some truths. Who is involved?”
He made a noise of appreciation and grinned. “You are clever, Mr. Paxton. Former marine, yes?”
“Just tell me what I want to know. I’m not here to take down your illegal gambling. I want the bastards who are selling human beings like objects.”
He nodded and waved at the door. I hadn’t realized there was a guard standing there. The massive mountain of a man inclined his head at Derek and turned, heading out the door and closing it firmly behind himself. The softclickmade my skin buzz with fight-or-flight response, but I didn’t know whether I was about to fight this man or not. “My cousin Mitch has business with Mr. Brickton. Actually, his lawyer friend owes him from digging him out of a financial hole he found himself in a few years back.”
River’s eyes widened. “You think Mitch is in on it?”
“I think my cousin is smart but also stupid. I’ve had him taking care of this place when I haven’t been around, and it’s the perfect opportunity to do shady business behind my back.” Derek’s gaze turned dark, and even I shivered. “He’s my uncle’s son, you see, and my uncle doesn’t have a good track record for loyalty. Mitch wanted to prove he was his father’s son only by blood. I gave him that chance.”
I winced. The way he talked only meant one thing—that if it was Mitch, he’d be regretting his decision very quickly. “Can we speak to Mitch?”
Derek laughed. “Let’s do it together.”
We didn’t get a chance to respond before the door opened again and someone was shoved into the room. Mitch tripped over the edge of a rug and went flying to his knees behind our chairs. He grunted and then raised his eyes to us before his gaze slid to Derek.
“What’s going on?” His voice trembled, and the fear from him was palpable. He clearly already knew what was happening.
Derek smiled, but this one was scary and downright evil. He stood and straightened his suit before he took measured steps around his desk and past our chairs. He stopped in front of Mitch. “I think you know.”
Mitch swallowed and attempted to stand, but Derek shook his head and Mitch froze.
“Can you please tell Mr. Demchenko and Paxton about the sex trafficking ring you’re running that I wasn’t aware of?”
Mitch let out a shaky breath and a sheen of sweat clung to his forehead. He laughed, but even that trembled like the rest of his body. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Derek.”
Derek chuckled, but as quick as a car crash he backhanded Mitch across the face. Mitch went flying to the floor, faceplanting and coughing. Globs of blood flew from his mouth. His shoulders heaved forward and he tried to push himself back up, but Derek had his boot in the middle of Mitch’s back, keeping him there.
“Try again.”
Mitch turned his head, even more sweat clinging to his face, and I didn’t know if I wanted to get up and tell Derek to back off or stay seated. My cop instincts said to help a victim, but this was different territory, something that King had stressed when we picked up the money. His direct words were: “Don’t do anything stupid, Brit.”
“Fine,” Mitch spat out, more blood landing in front of him. “I was making some side money. Does it fucking matter?”
Derek exhaled through his nose and leaned down, grabbing a fistful of Mitch’s hair. He yanked him to his feet and threw him toward the opposite side of the room. Mitch crashed against a bookshelf, the wooden shelves crumbling under his weight, and both him and the books collapsed to the floor.
“I gave you a chance, Mitch. One chance to prove to me that you aren’t your father’s son. Then you do this.” Derek shook his head and held out his hand. A guard stepped forward, and I sucked in a deep breath when he passed Derek a handgun. I did attempt to rise then, but River grabbed hold of my arm and shook his head, eyes full of warning. “One fucking chance.” Derek pointed the gun at Mitch’s chest and then must have changed his mind at the last minute because he lowered it and shot off a round, the bullet piercing straight through Mitch’s ankle.
Mitch let out a howl of agony, and I cringed, steering my gaze away from the sickly sight of cousin shooting cousin. I’d seen my fair share of blood and gore, but this was the kind I couldn’t do a damn thing about.
Fucking hell.
“Do you know what you did, Mitch? You threatened my peace with the Kings and Harlots. Do you have any idea the damage that could have done to me and to my business?” Derek’s face twisted in an emotion that seemed half irritation and half sick amusement. He was clearly having a grand time.
Mitch dragged himself closer to the broken bookcase, as though he could hide, but he had nowhere to go. “I’m sorry, Derek, okay? I just wanted to make us some extra cash. Fuck.”
“Did you threaten Mr. Demchenko?” Derek raised the gun to point it at Mitch’s head.
Mitch nodded quickly. “Fine. That was me. I knew Brickton had Jason take photos of him. He said he wanted to get back at Demchenko.”
“Who is Brickton to you?” I asked, unable to stop myself. Mitch wasn’t the guy who sat at the top. He was a coward, a man who recoiled away from danger. Top dog in this kind of organization didn’t cower like Mitch was.
“He’s my employee,” Mitch spat, eyes narrowed. “Just another rung on the ladder.”
