Terrence stared at me, dumbfounded, but with the incredulity giving way to something else. “Who are you?”
“Darcy Marchant.”
“You are not.”
I didn’t dignify that with an answer.
He stared harder. Then his chin rose in pompous arrogance. “Whatever crime you think I committed, I can assure you it wasn’t me. It simply could not happen. I don’t make mistakes like that.”
Mistakes.The pivot point of my childhood. A mistake.
Tyler moved at my side, but I grasped his hand and held it.
“Except it did.”
Terrence kept that same stubborn posture. “You’ll never prove it.”
“I don’t have to. The only people who matter believe me.”
Tyler squeezed my fingers. His presence helped me so much. I couldn’t have done this alone.
“The thing is.” I made another half step. “You stole something from me I can never get back, and for that, I want to see you punished. Maybe even killed. But I also know you weren’t the instigator.”
Terrence barked a laugh. “Killed? You stupid little bitch. What do you?—”
Tyler moved before I registered it, his fist slamming into Terrence’s gut hard enough to fold him in half.
It happened so fast, and left-handed, that I stared at Tyler in shock before Terrence had even hit the floor.
He grimaced. “I’m not apologising. He earned that by the way he spoke to ye.”
“I’m proud of you for not aiming for his head.”
He smiled. “You’re still in need of his words. He can talk about a gut ache but not unconscious, and Convict has a mean right hook. Another hit and this arsehole would be out for hours.”
Curled around his stomach, Terrence whimpered.
Tyler prodded him with his boot. “Get the fuck up.”
He kicked him when not immediately obeyed.
Terrence lumbered to his feet, this time appearing far less sure. “This…incident. Y-you say my wife brought you to me?”
I breathed, trying to stay steady. “She did. But that isn’t what I want to talk to you about. I’ve put my past behind me. I don’t even want an apology. You’re beneath me, and I’m never going to waste time thinking about you after today. But while we’re here, you’re going to provide me with information. Your wife is close to my grandparents. Did she know about the auctions? About where the money came from?”
He hesitated. “Auctions?”
“Don’t bother,” Tyler said in a tone that spoke volumes.
Harford folded. “Yes, she talked about auctions. It’s a means to an end. Just a money-spinner. Nothing more.”
Nothing more. All those lives lost.
Something changed in his expression. “I’ll tell you anything you want if you let me go. I’ll name names.”
It was then that a shitty conflict made itself known to me. Terrence was a witness, and a very good one. All of the men were, to more or less extent, but Terrence knew his wife had set him up, and he was willing to throw her under a bus.
It meant leaving him alive. It meant letting him go.
