Fortunately, he’d found Marcus not long after and Marcushelped him do that.
Nevertheless, for obvious reasons, Brady, like Marcus,wasn’t a big fan of any man thinking it’s just the way if “a bitch has itcomin’.”
Down low, Marcus swung a hand slightly out and he felt theheat of Brady’s anger at his back subside.
He’d taught Brady the lesson about rage too.
Marcus focused again on the man.
“She was going to get her lip gloss.”
“Do I care?”
“Her laugh sounds like bells.”
“Again,asswipe,do I care?”
Again, Marcus studied him and he did it for a good length oftime.
Closely.
“No,” Marcus finally said, speaking quietly.“You don’t.Youdon’t care.And that’s it.That’s why you could do what you did.Because youdon’t care.I was right.You’re nothing but an animal.”
“You think I’mgonnabeg formercy, I’m not,fuckwad.Again, don’t give a fuckshe’s convinced you different.That gash don’t matter.Most gash don’t matter.But her?She’s a fucking stripper!”
The gunshot echoed loud through the room.
The man slumped to his back.
Marcus turned, Brady came to his side, and Marcus handed himthe gun.
“You’ll coordinate things with Dom?”he asked.
Brady nodded.
Marcus took that in.
Then he walked out of the warehouse.
Sitting in the back of his car, Ronald driving, thephone held to his ear, Marcus heard it ring three times before Smithie answeredwith, “It’s after four in the fuckin’ morning.”
“It’s done.”
There was silence then, “What’s done?”
“Daisy’s safe.”
More silence before a muttered, “That Nightingale guy.”
Marcus said nothing.
“This does not make me happy,” Smithie announced.
Marcus felt his neck get tight.“How can this not make youhappy?”
“’Cause, brother, whatever got done got done without megettin’ my licks in.”
Marcus let out a breath.“You’re not that man.”
