His words are cut off by another blast of cold air from the door. I reach for my gun under my coat, and I’m pointing it at the shadowed figure in the doorway before the wind dies.
But I lower it just as quickly and snarl, “What the fuck is he doing here?”
Thomas Brooks’ gaze wanders down to my black leather gloves before he stuffs his own pair into the pocket of his dark gray trenchcoat. He walks towards me as Case stands.
“I was invited,” Brooks says simply, sliding his coat over the back of the barstool on the other side of me. “Because you don’t seem to be very dependable these days. You’re going off the rails, brother. And Case thinks you need a little intervention.” He sends me a snarled grin. “Isn’t that right, Case?”
I turn to Case and he’s already shaking his head, knowing I’m about to protest. “Don’t bother, Linc. He’s right. I told him everything. You can’t go off-script like this. You can’t just start killing whoever you want and call it justice. We’re not on board with the way you’re handling things.” He pauses to stare me down. “You need to remember what the hell we’re doing here, man. That’s all this is.”
“That’s fucking classic coming from the two of you.”
“Martini,” Brooks says to Mac, who, when I look over at him, is looking like he might bolt out the back door any second. “And relax, Mac, it’s me. He’s not doing anything stupid tonight because we all know who’s in charge when I’m in the room.”
“You prick—”
“Lincoln,” Case says, grabbing my shoulder and turning me around to face him. “Shut the fuck up and listen. Because he’s back and when he’s back, he’s the boss. There’s nothing you can do to stop that aside from killing him, and we all know you won’t do that.”
“We have history,” Thomas says, talking more to Mac than me. “And if you want a fight, Lincoln, I’ll give you one. But don’t expect me to pull any punches for old times’ sake.” He shoots me a semblance of a smile before turning his head to hide it. “Besides, we’re on the same side. We’ve always been on the same side, Lincoln. You just require regular convincing.”
My anger peaks, and maybe I can’t kill him. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get to have my say. “And why do you think I require regular convincing? Where the fuck have you been for the past fifteen years? Huh? You just pack up and leave, no big deal. Case and I were the ones to put shit back together. You’re nothing but a corporate sellout. A pig in a sty filled with filth just like all the others.” I sneer it at him, seething with anger. “You know what Case and I call you behind your back?”
“Come on, Lincoln—”
“No, fuck you, Case. You get all paranoid because I go missing for a few hours—”
“A whole fucking day, you asshole. A night and a day, actually. Where the hell did you go? And what’s the deal with the girl?”
“It’s been taken care of.”
“I hope you did it right,” Thomas says, taking his martini from Mac, who makes another quick escape down to the other end of the bar. “Because you’re fucking up a lot of plans right now.” He glares at me from the corner of his eye. “And we never gave you authority to start killing people.”
“We? What is this we shit? You’re so sure we’re on the same team, Thomas?” I laugh, it’s so absurd. “Maybe we were way back, but you haven’t been one of us for a very long time, brother. Way too long to just start talking about bygones. So why don’t you put your fancy black gloves back on, take your coat off that stool, walk back the way you came, and go fuck yourself.”
“Shit,” Case says with a grunted laugh. “You’re an idiot, Lincoln.” Case grabs my gun hand and points it at Thomas. “Shoot him, then. If he’s not one of us, then shoot the fucker and prove it.”
I can’t shoot him. The three of us know this. And it’s not that I’ve got some sentimental affection for the old days. Some long-ago sense of loyalty. No. I simply cannot shoot him.
My hand trembles and I’m not even aiming, Case is. My whole body starts to sweat and my hands heat up. Perspiration collects on my forehead in drops and then it’s rolling down my face. The shakes start and I’m ready to double over from the nausea. Another second and I’ll collapse to the floor.
I wrench my gun hand away from Case, lower it to the ground, and the symptoms of inhibition poisoning ease back. But it takes many more seconds to recover than it does to be affected.
“I guess I am one of you,” Thomas says with a satisfied smile as he takes another sip of his martini. “Now be a good boy, Lincoln, and do your job like we planned it. Stop this madness before you get us all killed.” He gulps the rest of his drink, places his glass on the bar, and then reaches for his wallet, throwing down a twenty. “I’ll see you both Friday night at my new headquarters for the SkyEye party. And feel free to bring your date, Lincoln. I’d love to see her.”
“It’s sick what you did over there,” I say.