“But you have become a hell of a lot more annoying than your dad was,” he snarls. “I’ll tell you that.”
A bead of liquid—sweat, not blood, I hope—runs down my temple. It trials down my cheek to the side of my lips. It has a warm and copper taste. Blood.
“You just can’t seem to keep your nose out of shit,” Ethan says. I can barely hear him over the hammering in my head. I’m harnessing everything I have into desperately blocking out the pain, but it’s becoming impossible.
Red and yellow stars are starting to burst in my line of vision, not just behind my eyelids. Ethan’s voice is the only thing I can hold onto.
“Imagine my surprise when, not only did we locate Liam Carter,” he says, “but somehow he was also the sole witness to the Mabel Mathew’s hit.”
I peel open my eyes, and Ethan seems pleased to resume our stares. He smiles.
“You can’t ever leave a witness,” he says. That patronizing hum is back in his tone. “But people like me, we look for an opportunity in everything. So I start to think this is great, I’ll have Muggs and Kolleman clean up their work—" He points over his shoulder at the two thugs standing against the wall. “—they’ll get rid of the witness and Todd Carter’s son in one hit. Two birds with one stone, right? That’s music to my ears in this business.”
After a beat, Ethan stands up. He takes a few gradual steps forward before crouching in front of me.
“So I sent them back to Pinkie’s. But tell me this, Liam,” he murmurs, “what are the chances that, not only is a cop sitting in the bar all night, but that that cop is Detective Claire fucking Brooks?”
With Ethan so close, I feel a gust of revived strength sweep through me. I feel my pain fusing into a rage. It’s in my fists, compressing my lungs, and coursing through my chest like fuel.
“So they couldn’t finish the job and I learn that the witness, Todd Carter’s pathetic son, is fucking my girlfriend,” Ethan says, shaking his head. He draws a breath in through his nose like the words had a foul scent. “Your dad was a problem, but he was just an annoyance.” He stands up. “You’re worse.”
Ethan begins pacing the floor in front of me before stopping abruptly. “You know who Claire’s dad is, right?” he asks. “Who he was.” He smiles at that.
I don’t say a word. Eventually, he resumes pacing.
“See, I never planned on getting this involved,” he says. “My dad, the original Head Honcho, hated Bill Brooks. I didn’t have to deal with him much cause the man turned into an old, fat fucking bowling ball by the time I came around. But even in retirement he still couldn’t call it quits. That bitter old man was obsessed, and someone left to their thoughts becomes a little dangerous. All I ever wanted to do was keep an eye on him, my dad would’ve wanted that. But then I realized his daughter was quite a piece of candy.”
I wince at the image that fills my mind.
After everything I gave you.
My rage churns with the nausea in my stomach. There was never anything real between them. Ethan used and manipulated her, and she fell into his trap.
I feel fury hot on my skin. He did all that without consequence. I’m the one beat-up and bruised and tied in a chair. He’s the one standing over me. And he’s going to kill me.
“I’d still have her all to myself if it weren’t for you,” he says. “I knew there was a reason why she was being such a bitch. Didn’t know it was you though.” Ethan scoffs. “I saved her life, you know that?”
“You ruined her life,” I manage to spit out.
Ethan sits back down on the stool.
“No.” He leans forward, wagging a belittlingly finger at me. “I saved her life. Maybe she didn’t tell you, but she would’ve been shot if it weren’t for me. And all I got back was defiance—” He points at me. “—the same defiance that you fucked into her.”
Ethan stands up. His two thugs turn stiff and alert behind him like dogs whose master just reached for a leash. He takes a step toward me.
“Your life is almost over, Liam,” he murmurs. “But I’m going to leave you to feel your wounds and reflect on some of your life choices for a little while. Especially the ones involving Claire.” He kicks me, driving the pointed nose of his shoe into my shin.
Then he turns and strides out of the room, into the garage. The two men follow and close the door behind them.
29
Liam
When the door to the garage opens and Ethan reemerges, I’ve almost become too weak to look up. It’s like the drill hammering in my head is also laying concrete in the front of forehead. Every breath is sharp and brief. I can’t inflate my chest, can’t move my neck. But I will myself to hold my left eye open.
If he’s going to kill me, he’ll have to look me in the eye while he does it.
Ethan takes his time returning to his seat on the stool. The two thugs follow, Scarred Chin right behind Ethan and carrying a briefcase. They both stop and stand on either side of Ethan after he takes a seat.
How do you end up as goons for The Club? These two aren’t Ethan’s brothers, they don’t look anything like him. Probably just Black & Williams employees that he converted. But it was still their decision to join, which is a decision you make when your life takes a wrong turn and you don’t have the balls to fix it. It’s unrespectable.
“I bet you wish these two had killed you the first time,” Ethan says.
For a moment, he stares at me and I return his gaze in silence. It’s all I can do. Slowly, a thin smile grows on his lips. I’m still meeting his eyes, but it feels more like I’m staring right through them. They have no soul, no integrity, no feelings. And every second that I hang on I can smell his displeasure like perfume in the air.
Ethan is going to kill me. But he’s not going to win.
“I was pissed at first,” he says, and his smile vanishes like it was never there. He grazes a hand down his stubbly chin. “You were supposed to die right outside your front door. I thought that’d be fitting. But these two dumb fucks weren’t expecting Claire to show up. Not that it should’ve made a goddam difference.” He shuts his eyes in an effort to restrain anger, then quickly opens again. “But you’ve got to do things yourself if you want them done right.”
Ethan stands up.
“And really, I think I’m going to enjoy the chance to have a little fun,” he says. There’s chilling enthusiasm in his voice but I don’t let it shift my expression. He bobs his head at Scarred Chin, who brings the stool in front of Ethan and sets the briefcase on top.
There’s a series of clicks as Ethan unbuckles it. He flashes another toothless smile, then opens it up.
“Let’s start with this,” he says, lifting a machete. He caresses his finger slowly down the long metallic blade. “This is long overdue.”
“Yes it is.” The sound of her voice shoots electricity through my chest. Ethan turns, and I follow his gaze to the side-door camouflaged into the wall. Claire is standing inside the open frame, pointing a pistol at Ethan.
30
Claire
I ease the door open as gently as possible, just a crack. And there they are. The two men from Pinkies are cut and pasted into the room in front of me. Liam is in a chair, Ethan standing in front of him. And there’s something in his hand.
“This is long overdue,” he murmurs.
I push open the door with my gun raised. “Yes it is.”
The two thugs simultaneously reach for their weapons and I shift my aim to them.
“Don’t do it! I’ll shoot!” I shout. Their hands hover at their wastes. “In the air!” I order. And they obey, gradually raising their hands, palms out.
Ethan is facing me. The object in his hands I can now see is a machete, the blade gleaming in the dull lighting. He sends a disapproving glare at his two goons before looking at me. His lips smooth into his fake smile with the smug chin wrinkles. I’ve always hated it.
“Welcome!” he says. “You’re just in time for the show.”
&n
bsp; “Show’s over,” I say, taking a step forward. With the two Club members in my peripheral vision, I shift my aim back at Ethan. “Everything’s over.”
His smirk shifts as he pretends to find humor in what I said. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” I take another step forward to punctuate it.
Ethan scoffs. He looks down at the machete, dramatically running a finger down the blade before looking back up.
“How do you see this playing out, Claire?” he asks. It’s the same condescending tone he would use whenever we argued. The tone he used to belittle my every suggestion, as if I couldn’t help that I wasn’t as smart as he was. Like I couldn’t help my own stupid ideas.
It only makes my grip tighten around the pistol.
“My idea involves no one else getting hurt,” I say. “How do you see this playing out, Ethan?” His name rolls off my tongue with the same patronizing ring. And he notices.
“Well.” An arrogantly dramatic pause. “By my count, you’re outnumbered,” he says. He takes a second using his finger to count everyone in the room as if double checking. But it’s all an act. All manufactured and fake, including the eager inflection in his voice.
Ethan craves control.
Whether it’s a date night, or in bed, or conducting the scene in front of me, he needs it. He needs to feel like a god among men. It was a spell that even I had fallen under at one point. But now it makes him look glaringly weak.
“If this goes guns a blazin’ then that’s a game you lose,” he says. “You might take one of us with you, but only one, then you’re done. And no part of that helps Liam, here. Is that the trade you want to make?”
“There’s no more trading,” I say. “You don’t get to negotiate or make any more threats. Your word no longer means anything.”
Ethan smiles at that. “You always did have a flawed way of seeing of things. You’re all passion, no intellect.” He shakes his head, but his expression has a glow of pride. “Everything happened right in front of your fucking face,” he says.
“How many Black & Williams employees work for The Club?” I ask.
“Just a few. That’s why it’s important to have a good secretary.” He winks at me.
“You killed her,” I say. He bunches his lips to the side, nodding and feigning disappointment. “You killed Anna Maxwell just to prove a point to me.”
“I killed her for a few reasons,” he says. “Don’t turn egocentric now, it’s not a good look on you. Anna thought she was there to kill you under my watch, and she was happy to do it. She didn’t like you very much. But I had a witness running his mouth.” He thumbs at Liam. “And I—”
“And you’re getting sloppy,” I say. That drains the pride from his face.
“Try again.” He props up another fake smile. “You know what’s even better than me killing the jealous mistress just in the nick of time, right before she kills you? Me killing the jealous mistress who’s caught red-handed with the weapon used in Mabel’s murder. It’s like I told Liam here—” Ethan turns to him. “—two birds with one stone.”
Liam spits at the ground beside Ethan’s shoes, and I cringe at the amount of blood in it. I’ve made an effort not to let his pain be a distraction, not if I’m going to get him out of this, but for a moment I can’t help but take in the severity of his wounds. His caramel skin is purpled and bruised, his lips cracked, one eye swollen completely shut.
Ethan looks down at the glob of blood-spit. “Of course, I was assuming you would simmer down a little after watching me shoot Anna between her eyes,” he says, looking back up at me. “But that’s the problem with you. Watching your boyfriend kill the woman he slept with only made you more upset.”
“I was never going back to you.”
“Because I cheated,” he says. “Not because you knew who I am.” This time his smile is authentic not fake. “And how does that make you feel? I manipulated you so easily, Claire.” The words come out slow and deliberately, stabbing me with every syllable. “All passion, no intellect,” he says. “That’s the easiest formula. Not to mention, the physical persuasion wasn’t all that bad.” He exaggerates looking me up and down.
The two Club thugs chuckle.
Ethan uses the machete to point at Liam. “Liam knows a little about—”
“We’re done with this,” I say. I aim my Glock back at the two thugs, and their smiles flatten immediately. “There’s nothing special about you two. You’re disposable. Eventually he would’ve used both of you the same way he used Anna. He requires loyalty, but he’ll throw you to the wolves the second that the opportunity benefits him. Except he can’t get sex from you two, which means your shelf life is—”
“You sound jealous,” Ethan interrupts. “Anna was as ruthless in her mind as she was in bed. I couldn’t resist.”
I move my aim back to him.
“You think you’re God’s gift to law enforcement,” he says spitefully, “like you’re the new version of your daddy. But guess what? I manipulated him too. Up until his very last moment.”
My stomach drops like an elevator and I feel my legs slacken below me. I’m about to collapse. “It was you.”
Ethan smirks. After another second, he nods. A wave of furious heat runs up my spine, into my limbs, boiling under my skin. My finger twitches on the trigger.
“You bastard!” Liam shouts. He makes a vehement struggle against whatever is binding his hands. The chair legs clatter against the floor and he jerks and twists, but it’s no use.
Ethan chuckles at him. “I told her dad that I wanted to talk to him out on the balcony,” he says. “I said I wanted to talk about Claire and me getting married.” He scoffs, turning back to me. “Some emotional hoopla plus a little liquor and he went over the railing easily.”
“You pushed him.” The exact scene plays in front of my eyes.
“I did.” He nods. “Somewhere up in the clouds my own dad is proud. And now look where we are.” He gestures at the room around us. “I killed your daddy and now you have a gun pointed at me. So what is it going to be?” he asks. “Are you going to use it? Are you gonna make daddy proud? Because I think not.”
31
Liam
“Do it, Claire!” The words rake the walls of my throat as I shout. “Do it! Shoot him!”
I’m deflated—there’s no more breath left in my lungs. Ethan doesn’t even look at me. He’s daring her to do it.
He’s a coward.
Too much of a coward to go to prison. This isn’t going to end that way. Either Claire is going to shoot him, or one of the three will shoot her.
“Shoot him,” I breathe, closing my eyes as pain pierces my lungs. I envision the little shell of lead leaving the barrel, cutting through the air and into Ethan’s skull. Retribution for all of the Club’s victims—for her dad, and mine.
Pull the trigger, Claire. Please.
The sound of a phone ringing suddenly cuts the air. It’s coming from Ethan’s pocket. Then immediately comes the loud, electric hum of a megaphone.
“Ethan Black, this is Agent Henry Gordon with the FBI. I’ve got the Miami PD here next to me. We’d like to talk to you. Will you answer your phone?”
It’s coming from just outside the door. They’re here.
Relief floods my veins and swells in my chest. But it’s washed over immediately when I open my eyes, replaced with the feeling that we’re a grenade that has just had its pin pulled.
Ethan won’t go peacefully. This scene is going to detonate.
“You fucking bitch,” he murmurs, his eyes pointed like arrows at Claire.
“Whatever you’re thinking right now is going to end worse than you giving in,” she says. I feel assured that she’s still firmly pointing her gun, but why wouldn’t she? There’s four walls and too many seconds between us and the reinforcements outside.
His phone continues ringing. The two thugs are looking desperately at Ethan. They have the look of two stray dogs. Submissive and vulner
able.
“It’s over,” Claire says. Her voice is unwavering. “They know who you are, Ethan. They’re not going to forget. There’s no move where you get out of this. Why don’t you answer and talk to them.”
“Shut up!” Ethan barks. His expression has the sharp edge of a knife.
“They’ll send a SWAT team in,” she says. The stray dog eyes flick to Claire then back to Ethan. “And the second they walk through that door there’s only one way this is going to end.”
“Not if we give them what they want,” he says.
“They want you.”
“They’ll negotiate for me.” His tone is hard and calculating. It’s a complete shift from his arrogant poise. A different voice, almost. But the same eyes.
The ringing ends.
Claire stiffens her aim. “I said there’s no more negotiating. You need—”
“Oh, believe me, our friend Henry Gordon with the eff-bee-eye will negotiate,” Ethan says. He points at her. “But put your fucking gun down or no one’s going anywhere!”
“I’m not doing that. You need to answer their next call or they’re going to send that SWAT team in and things will get ugly.”
On cue, his phone begins to ring again.
“We’ve got you surrounded, Ethan. Answer the phone. Let’s talk this out.”
Ethan winces at every sound from the megaphone outside. He shakes his head, then quickly draws his phone and answers. “What.”
I exchange a glance with Claire. For a split second her eyes soften. She mouths I’m sorry.
“No, I don’t think so,” Ethan says into the phone. That stiff arrogance is back in his voice.
Claire’s dark eyes go hard again.
“I’ll tell you what,” he says, “I’ll send out my two men with the hostage. Beggars can’t be choosers, Agent Gordon.” He ends the call.
A Family Secret Page 16