Page 74 of The Villain

“You let the devil in,” he forced out. “He’s a cancer. You’re just too fucking weak to see it. Your father saw it in you. Tried to beat it out of you, too. But he was always too soft.”

Patrick had been a lot of things, but soft was not one of them. I was tired of being in this room. It stunk, and Rank’s voice was grating on my nerves.

“Who’d you talk to, Rank? This is the last time I’m going to ask before I start slicing off more body parts. You don’t get some final fucking manifesto to justify why you betrayed me.”

“It was about him!” He bucked against his restraints, and the chair nearly toppled over. Hack looked up from his computer with narrowed eyes. Blood bubbled from Rank’s lips as he talked. “They were supposed to kill Walsh.”

I didn’t care who he thought they’d come to kill—he’d been played by whoever he’d talked to. Someone definitely wanted me dead. Devlin had overheard fragments of conversation while they searched the warehouse for us.

“You start the fire too?” I asked.

He curled his lip. “You weren’t doing your job.”

That was confirmation enough for me. I stabbed the knife into his shoulder, in the exact place I’d been shot. Rank went apeshit, screaming and tossing himself against the chair and his bindings. I yanked the knife out, and blood arced through theair. Rank jerked so hard, the chair finally toppled onto its side, and the newly-earless side of his head bounced off the floor with a dull thud. For a moment, I thought he’d knocked himself out, like the dumbass he was. But then he blinked a few times and started screaming all over again.

I shoved a wad of the plastic tarp in his mouth to muffle the sound. I couldn’t even hear myself think. “I asked who you talked to, Rank. It was a simple question that has a simple answer. I know you only have one ear now, but try to keep the fuck up.”

His bloody Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. I could see the fight leaving his eyes, like he knew the end was near. Blood streamed from his shoulder, and I didn’t even bother righting the chair at this point. After his screams had dissolved into whimpers, I tugged the plastic from his mouth.

“Who did you talk to, Rank?”

His lips trembled, and his speech was slow and slurred. “I hired the Russos.”

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. Hack met my gaze and nodded, then aggressive clacking filled the small space as he typed, the sound loud over Rank’s pained pants. The Russos were twins who murdered for hire, and they didn’t come cheap.

“How’d you afford the Russos?”

“I-I promised them the code to the warehouse on Fifth if they killed Devlin.”

Which meant the Russos would have made off with half our gun supply. “Why cut into your own profits? You get paid from those sales.”

“It was worth it to make you look incompetent.” He tongued the corner of his split lip. “I had a plan. I wanted you humiliated.”

Jace piped up from behind me. “You dumbass. You were playing checkers while Cian was playing fucking chess.”

I turned around to stare at him, and he wore a bright, delighted smile on his face like he’d just said the cleverest thing in the world. Rhys groaned softly as he rubbed his forehead. Devlin attempted to hide a snort behind his hand. Jace looked at both of them. “What?”

“Fuck me,” I muttered as I turned back around to glare down at Rank. My head hurt. Rank couldn’t give me any information I wouldn’t find out on my own. At this point, every second he continued breathing felt like razors on my skin.

I crouched next to Rank on the tarp. “Thanks for your service,” I murmured as I drew the blade across his throat. Blood poured out onto the plastic. He gurgled, lips moving but unable to form words. Soon, he’d be unable to breathe, either.

I stood and turned my back to Rank. Jace watched him bleed out with a satisfied smirk, while Rhys kept his eyes on Jace. And Devlin…

Devlin watched only me, his expression nearly serene.

An hour later, while a few of my men cleaned up what was left of Rank, I sat in our meeting room with my officers and Devlin.

“If they told anyone about Devlin, they were paid for the information and told to keep it quiet,” Hack said. “I’ve checked every channel I could, and there’s nothing out there about the Detroit Devil still being alive, let alone in Jersey.”

I chewed my thumbnail and glanced over at Devlin. He sat next to me with his arms crossed over his chest, his face tight as he stared straight ahead.

“They wanted Cian dead.” He told my officers the same thing he’d told me. “I heard them talking while we were hiding. I wasn’t the target. They didn’t even know who I was. They thought I was just another member of the O'Shea crew.”

“I think they sold Rank’s information to someone willing to pay them more to take me out instead,” I said.

“The Russos haven’t been actively taking jobs lately.” Hack tapped the table with two fingers. “Word is they went exclusive with the Bianchis.”

The Bianchis were an old mob out of New York City, and they’d seemed content to stay there. I’d heard rumblings they were looking to expand across New Jersey to Atlantic City, but I’d dismissed them when there’d been no activity.