Gage followed me into the room and went to stand against thefar wall. We’d agreed on the ride over that it was my show, though Gage had made it clear he wanted a piece of the man.
Vengeance for Reese, probably. I had no clue what his relationship with Reese consisted of, but I suspected it didn’t go beyond friendship considering the way he’d looked at Everett. It was a development I just didn’t have the time to deal with at the moment.
“What’s your name?” I asked as I took my time taking off my watch and sticking it in my pocket.
“It’s fuck you, what’s yours?”
I guessed the man to be in his early twenties at the most. There was a thin gash on his left cheek, presumably from when Nathan had cut him with the broken glass the night of the attack. He was wearing camouflage clothing, and I’d had a chance to look at his weaponry before I’d entered the room. He’d definitely come prepared to do some damage, because he’d had enough firepower in his car to take out a small platoon…or a rural police department. It had left me wondering if his intent had been to hunt down Brody’s men once he’d taken care of Brody. It wouldn’t have been unreasonable for him to have watched Brody for a while to learn all he could about his movements. And what better way to inflict as much emotional damage on Nathan as he could by taking out his brotheranda slew of innocent people as well?
I stepped forward and studied the young man for a moment before slamming my fist into his jaw. His head whipped to the side and blood went flying as I knocked at least one tooth loose.
“Now, let’s try that again. What’s your name?”
“Fuck-”
Another punch cut off the response and two more to his gut had him gasping for breath. I didn’t wait for him to catch his breath before I grabbed him by the hair and wrenched his head back. “Name,” was all I said. I took my gun out and pointed it at his groin to let him know I wasn’t playing.
He remained silent, but when I pulled the trigger, unloading a bullet into the wood between his legs, he let out a bark of fear and yelled, “Clint!”
“Clint,” I said in satisfaction as I stepped back. “Clint what?”
He began shaking his head. Before he’d even finished the motion, I shot him in the knee. He screamed in agony as his body jerked in the chair. “Yates!” he shouted when I aimed for his other knee.
I glanced at Gage, who nodded and left the room. He was pulling his cell phone out as he walked through the door. I knew Ronan had a lot of resources at his disposal, so we’d likely have the basics on Clint in a matter of minutes.
But I wanted more than just the basics.
“He’s going to kill you,” Clint growled between pants as he tried to control the pain.
“Oh yeah?” I asked casually. “Who is?”
Clint remained stubbornly silent, so I shot him in the foot. He bellowed in pain and let off a string of curses. I strode forward and snagged him by the hair. “Did you think this was a game?” I asked coldly. “Did you think we’d dance around with this? That I’d try to be your friend or that I’d toss you some empty threats to try to get you to talk?”
Clint wisely didn’t answer. Sweat was pouring off his brow and he was struggling to catch his breath. I took my gun and jammed it against the bullet wound Reese had inflicted earlier. Clint cried out in pain and tried to twist away from me.
“Why were you after Nathan Wilder?”
Only when Clint looked like he was going to pass out did I relieve the pressure on the injury. When he didn’t answer me, I aimed for his other knee.
“My pocket!” he screamed. “Check my back pocket!”
I hesitated and then stepped around him to check his pockets. There was nothing in the first, but when my fingers grazed a piece of paper in the second, I carefully worked it free and stepped around to Clint’s front again.
Gage returned to the room and said, “Our girl’s working on pulling his info.”
I nodded as he stopped beside me. His eyes impassively took in Clint’s moans of pain before he looked at the piece of my paper in my hand.
Except it wasn’t exactly a piece of paper.
It was a check.
I opened it and flinched when I saw Nathan’s name on the signature line. The check was made out to someone named Megan Yates. The amount was for five thousand dollars. I glanced at the account information and realized the check had been drawn on Nathan’s campaign fund account.
“What is this?” I asked as I turned the check over. The check had never been endorsed and there was no indication it had been deposited or canceled.
“The cost of penance,” he snarled.
Pure fury went through me. I put the gun to the guy’s head. “What the fuck did I tell you about this not being a game?” I snapped. “Who is Megan Yates?”
