“Get the fuck out of my office before I lock your ass up and throw you away for life.”
I grab him by the throat and push him against the wall, making all the picture frames of his tired-looking wife and his six kids sway like they’re about to crash to the floor. “I’m afraid you’re mistaking Detective Molly Masters for the whores you pick up in front of Cathedral Seven in the Merchant District.”
“What?” he gasps though the tight choke I have on his throat. But I see the recognition there.
“Your dirty department might have a hold on most of this city, but I own the Merchant District. I’ve seen you. I have you on so many security cameras, I could’ve taken you down a hundred times over. But I didn’t. Because I need a dumbshit like you in control for now.”
“What—” he gasps again. This time his hands come up and try to pry my fingers from his windpipe.
“In fifteen seconds you’re going to lose consciousness. And If I were you, I’d stop struggling so we can get this over with in one take, understand?”
He lowers his hands and nods, so I ease up enough to let him draw in one tiny breath. “You’re not in charge here anymore, I am. And you’re never gonna talk to Molly Masters like that again. In fact, if I hear you call one woman ‘sweetheart’ or ‘honey’ who is not that saint of a woman hanging on your wall above your head, then I’m gonna come back for you. I’m gonna parade your lewd acts on every TV in this city, and I’m going to ruin your life.”
I let go and his hands go to his throat again as he wheezes in air as fast as he can gulp it down. There’s a bright red mark on his neck, and it’s not from the squeezing. He doesn’t feel it yet, but he will. Because the anger in my head comes out as red heat in my hands, even through the gloves. His neck will blister in a matter of minutes.
I don’t like leaving too many calling cards, and this one is risky. But he needs to know what he’s dealing with. “I’d think long and hard about what I just said, Chief. And if I were you, I’d be on that phone with your real boss, and I’d warn them there’s a shitstorm coming.”
I turn and walk away. I’m just reaching for the door when he asks the only question left to ask.
“Who are you?”
I pause, picturing Molly that first day in my cave. And then I look over my shoulder and say, “I’m Alpha. And you can tell that Blue Boar fuck down at Blue Corp that I’m back and he’s next.”
Chapter Forty - Lincoln
I pull into the cave with a wave of dread. I heard the chatter in the department about Atticus missing the shot. Montgomery senior wasn’t killed last night and I’m fuming from the fuckup. That motherfucker was supposed to be dead. Why isn’t he dead?
I throw the car into park and get out, my boots thudding across the concrete floors as I make my way to the wall of monitors. I scan each one, but it’s useless. There is no mention of Atticus or his father.
“What the fuck happened last night?” I turn to Sheila, who is hovering in the middle of the room looking like she’s in the middle of a shrug.
“Everything was going according to plan. Atticus got out of the car, I tracked him inside Blue Corp, everything looked fine. He went behind the closed-circuit cameras where I have no access so I assumed—”
Her words are cut off by my phone. I take it out, recognizing Case’s tone, and say, “Yeah.”
“What the fuck, dude?”
“I don’t know, man, he missed or something.”
“Missed? How the fuck can he miss? If he was in the office like we planned it, then that bastard was less than twenty feet away. No way Atticus missed that fucking shot. And the goddamned Blue Boar just did an interview for Channel Three, Wolves of Wall Street. He looks pretty fucking alive to me. Thomas is gonna be here in thirty minutes and he’s gonna want answers.”
“I just got home, Case. I don’t have answers. I’m still trying to figure it out. I watched Atticus walk into the Blue Castle last night. He was primed and ready. He should’ve fucking pulled that trigger.”
“Did you ask Molly about it?”
“Why the fuck would I ask Molly? We agreed that she wouldn’t be involved.”
“Things change, Lincoln.”
“Well, I’m not asking her. She’s the lead detective on this case and she already knows too much.”
“I disagree,” Case says. “I don’t think she knows nearly enough.”
“Do not threaten me, Case.”
“Threaten? Get a hold of yourself, asshole. This is the endgame and you just fucked it up. The Old Man is still alive. You need to get your ass here and explain this shit to Thomas. Because I’m not gonna take the brunt of the temper tantrum Thomas is gonna throw once he finds out the Blue Boar is still in the game.”
I get the three beeps that signal the call has ended. “Fuck!” I yell.
“I think you need weapons, Lincoln.”
“What?” I turn to Sheila, who is still standing in the middle of the room. “I have my gun, Sheila.”
But her lightshow body shakes its head. “More than that.”