Page 29 of Bram

“I’m coming for you, asshole.” I showed him my hands. “These are all I need. I’m going to right all the wrongs you did to people.”

He checked his watch. It was the kind that cost more than a working man’s car. “I hear you’ve been busy. Making friends with the District Attorney. How is she?”

I let the silence answer for me.

He studied my face, the scar on my right jaw, the way the wind kept trying to pull my hair out of its tie. He didn’t find what he was looking for, so he let it drop. “You came to see if I’d changed.” His voice went soft, almost grandfatherly. “I assure you: I haven’t. And neither have you.”

I spoke up, flat as I could. “Where are they?”

His eyes went hard. “Where’s who, Bram?”

“You know who.”

He gave a theatrical sigh, then turned to the driver and said, “Give us a moment.” The man nodded, stepped around the hood, and pretended to check his phone.

The Colonel leaned in, just a shade, not enough to be a threat, but enough to let me smell the cologne and see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes. “Julie always was a complicated girl,” he said, almost tender. “Very clever, very driven. Her mother made her that way. All the brains, none of the brakes.” He chuckled. “It’s a shame she didn’t trust me. I could have protected her.”

“You hurt her,” I said, and it wasn’t a question.

He considered it. “No,” he said finally. “I don’t hurt what’s mine. I only correct it.”

I felt my jaw go tight, but my hands stayed loose. “And Emma?”

He shook his head. “Such a sweet child. But weak. Soft, like her mother.” He looked at me, the smile gone now. “Julie will be fine. She just needs to be reminded what side she’s on.”

I didn’t blink. “I’m going to kill you,” I said.

He laughed again, this time with real pleasure. “I’ve heard that before, Bram. You know how many men have told me they’d end my life? At least five that are still alive. Three more that aren’t.” He adjusted his suit jacket, gave me a look like a principal addressing a rowdy student. “You’re not the man for the job.”

“Your arrogance is the very thing that’s going to allow me to end your life.” I took a couple of steps forward, fists balling.

He started for the car, then paused, glancing at the prison. “You ever notice how a place changes after you leave it?” He looked at me, like he was weighing me for parts. “Nothing’s ever as you left it. The rules, the loyalties, even the air. That’s how you know it’s time to move on.” He pointed at me. “You should really move on.”

“She belongs to me now, asshole,” I said.

“I’m her Daddy, Bram, in more ways than you can imagine.” He leaned in a little closer. “You couldn’t save your wife; what makes you think you can save Julie?”

I ignored the dripping from my palms, where my nails had broken skin. I glanced at the prison, seeing four guards watching us. “Be sure to say goodbye to your daughters.”

He chuckled, eyes on the guards. “Daughter, Bram. One Daughter.”

He saw my surprise and continued. “Do the math, genius. Emma couldn’t possibly be mine.”

“You’re a dead man, Gerald,” I said, and from the way his eye twitched, I knew he hated his name.

He smiled, got in the limo, and the door thumped shut with a vacuum seal.

The driver waited for the Colonel to signal, then pulled out, the tires barely making a sound on the old blacktop. I watched it go, memorizing the plate, the way the rear window caught the sunlight, the dust kicked up on the shoulder. The limo hit the junction, turned north, and was gone.

I sat there for a minute, the heat pressing down so hard it felt like my lungs were shrinking. I wanted to tear the bars off the bike or chase the limo and rip the man’s tongue out through his teeth. But I didn’t. I just waited, counted to sixty, and then pulled out my phone.

I called Sniper first.

He answered on the first ring. “Yeah.”

“Get the chapters ready,” I said. “Tell everyone: war footing, no exceptions. I want a headcount in one hour.”

He was silent, then: “What’s changed?”