Noah’s blood ran cold. He swallowed hard as his memories beat against the wall he’d built around them. He’d been the perfect victim. They could do whatever they wanted to him. And they had. “You’re monsters.”
Gary looked surprised by that response. “We spoiled you rotten. You never had to go to school. Wayne taught you himself. You got cake for breakfast and all the toys you could play with. All you had to do was ask for it, and we happily complied. Was the trade-off really that bad?”
Noah swallowed the bile climbing up his throat. “Yes. Killing me would have been kinder.”
“You’re being dramatic,” Gary chided.
Dramatic. He wasn’t dramatic enough. “So, why did you have to hurt the others if you had me? Your perfect victim?” Noah couldn’t hide the disgust in his voice.
Gary shrugged. “You got old. Well, for us. We had offers on you. Lots of them. You’ve always been beautiful. Those freckles alone would have made us a fortune, but then somebody murdered your father—Wayne—and everything went to shit. You were supposed to be mine. Wayne left you to me. Left it all to me. Even the rope I needed to hang all the others, so I could keep them in line. Mutually assured destruction is a powerful motivator.”
Noah’s head hurt. His heart hurt. But he had to keep him talking. “How many are there now?”
Gary’s brow furrowed. “How many what?”
“How many others are out there who are just like me?”
Gary shrugged once more. “I don’t know anymore. I just procure the boys and provide the use of my cabin so nobody is disturbed. Partake from time to time. We all have our parts to play.”
If Noah had held the gun, Gary’s brains would be painted across that room. But he didn’t. “And who exactly do you answer to?”
Gary scoffed. “I think you know the answer to that.”
He did. “O’Hara. Your mentor. He runs you all around like his chess pieces and you just go and do his bidding. You’re pathetic.”
“Yet, you’re the one with the gun to his head,” Gary reminded, his voice growing cold.
“He’s not the only one.”
Noah let out a sigh of relief at Adam’s voice. He stepped forward out of the shadows, a much smaller gun trained on Gary.
Gary’s eyes went wide but he didn’t lower his weapon. “Who the fuck are you?”
Adam pressed the gun to Gary’s temple. “I’m the guy who killed your boyfriend. Now, drop the gun.” Gary hesitated. “Do it now and I won’t fillet you before I kill you. Make me take it from you and I’ll make sure you die screaming.”
Gary lowered his arm, the gun slipping from his fingers, head swiveling back and forth between Noah and Adam, like he couldn’t quite get the pieces to fit. “You couldn’t have killed Wayne unless you’ve been swimming in the fountain of youth. You would’ve just been a kid.”
“I was sixteen. But I’m not anymore. And I promise you, I’m going to enjoy killing you far more than I did Holt.”
Noah’s tongue darted out to lick over his lower lip. He wanted nothing more than to watch Gary take a bullet. But then inspiration struck.
“Wait!” he cried.“I have an idea.”
Adam arched his brow. “I’m listening.”
“Why are we standing in an empty storage unit?” Atticus flicked his gaze to the center of the room, lip curling in disgust. “Well, almost empty.”
Adam rolled his eyes as he watched his brother remove a silk handkerchief from his pocket and wipe his hands, as if just standing in the damp, musty unit was enough to make him dirty.
“Yes, I’m just dying to know why that guy”—August pointed at Gary, currently tied to a folding chair—“is not currently dissolving in an acid bath?”
Gary began to thrash around in the chair, frantic noises coming from behind the gag in his mouth.
“Shut up,” Asa said, bored. When Gary didn’t take his advice, Asa picked up a booted foot and upended the chair. “This one’s going to be fun. He looks…juicy.”
Avi ignored the man currently flailing on his back to study Adam. “So, why are we all here?” he finally asked, exasperated. “And why isn’t Dad here?”
Adam shrugged. “Don’t ask me. Noah’s the one who called the meeting.”
Most people would have wilted under the gaze of five stone cold killers, but Noah just continued to lean against the wall, hands in his pockets. Maybe after having a gun pointed at his head for twenty minutes, he lacked the ability to look frightened.
Noah looked positively serene as he addressed Adam’s brothers. “Thomas isn’t here because he chose not to come. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say this is a test of some kind, but I don’t have time to worry about that now.”
August looked amused, Archer bored, Asa and Avi intrigued, and Atticus, as usual, looked like he’d smelled something bad. But Adam found it hard to tear his gaze away from Noah. He looked so sure of himself. It was sexy.
Noah flashed a quick smile in his direction. “Adam said the only way to kill these men is to do it all at once. That prospect seemed less difficult when we were looking at six or seven major players. Now, there could be as many as twenty major players. Politicians. Police. Priests. High value targets that are going to draw a lot of attention.”
“And that changes things how?” August asked.
Noah tilted his head, examining August with the same shrewd gaze he was receiving. “Well, the original plan was for each of you to take out a target on the same night, at the same time. You can’t do that with twenty people. As soon as word hits that one is dead, the others will start scattering like roaches.”
Asa cocked his head. “Go on.”
“Adam said Thomas would probably make you take out the targets one at a time, but that’s not very efficient.”
“Alright?” Atticus said, frowning like he was hoping Noah would get to the point.