“Either you'll take your beating like a man and feed the cops that exact story, or you'll end up like Landon.” Sully swallows, his eyes bugging out of his skull. “My brother is dead, Sully, and you're here dancing on his grave because, what, Clayton Moore paid you a couple hundred grand to piss on my doorstep?”
“Landon was already working with Clayton when I was brought into the fold. He … it was him who came to me,” Sully sputters. “He's the one who dragged Brent and me into this.”
“When?” I snap, getting up close and personal with Sully Rentz, my hand fisted in the front of his white button-down. “When the fuck did he start talking to you about all this crap?”
“Six months ago,” Sully says, spilling secrets like a cheap slot machine. One penny in and I'm already reaping a fortune. Landon, you cock sucking son of a bitch. How? Why? What the fuck happened to you? “He contacted me to get an in at the mayor's office, and I contacted Brent.”
“What about her?” I ask, my throat tightening as I let go of Sully and take a step back, my hammer still clutched tight in my right hand.
“Her?” Sully asks, clearly confused. “You mean Toni?”
“Who the fuck is Toni?” I growl and he cringes.
“The Deputy Mayor,” he mumbles. “Before Lyric. We paid her to draft the agreement between the city and the Wolves so that you'd never agree to it. But then she quit and Lyric dumbed it down to a point where it might actually be helpful to the club.” Lyric. The sound of her name makes me sick—and not in the way you might think. I really am a dumb shit. Even now, I want to see her, kiss her, fuck her.
“Why? What the fuck does this stupid ass agreement have to do with Mile Wide or Clayton Moore? It's symbolic at best, a waste of time at most.”
“I … I don't know.” I lift up my hammer and Sully collapses back against the car, sliding to the ground with stark terror burning in his gaze. “I have no fucking idea, man! Please, God, don't hurt me. I don't know anything else. I swear to Christ. Oh God, Jesus, shit. Shit, shit, shit.”
“Lyric. She called Brent down here to put pressure on the club, to get us to sign the agreement. Told me herself. Why? What part is she playing in all of this?” I don't realize it at first, but I'm holding my breath. I exhale as I wait for his raddled brain to come up with a response.
“Brent was already planning on coming over here anyway. He was under investigation with the FBI, and he needed an out. Clayton promised to give that to him.”
“So Lyric?” I remind him, gritting my teeth. “She in on this?”
“What? No, no, I don't think so. She wants to be a senator or something, I don't know. Lyric's not … not like this. She's too … no, she just wants my dad's approval. Jesus Christ.”
I exhale and steal a cig from my pocket, lighting up as I look down at Sully. Relief floods through me, cooling some of the wild anger in my heart, putting a dash of logic back in my brain. If Lyric was involved with Mile Wide, there really would be nothing I could do save get her the hell out of Dodge.
Too bad that's not an option for her brother.
I park my smoke between my lips and raise my hammer.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Lyric
After Royal leaves, I slump down to the floor and sit there for a while, my heart pounding so hard I can barely breathe.
Just remember how I saved your life today.
My life. I put my life on the line and for what? The club had already voted on my proposition? Why the hell didn't Royal just tell me that? Because he was playing with you, because he's a dangerous man from a different world, because you know nothing about him. Nothing.
Royal McBride is a stranger.
So why doesn't he feel like one? And why does my heart feel so empty and broken? Losing the trust of an acquaintance I met on Monday and pissed off on Friday shouldn't matter, especially not when I'm getting exactly what I wanted in the first place. Signed papers, Dad's re-election, a leg up for my future career.
I put my head in my hands and try to catch my breath. The look on his face … God. Royal's expression was awful. So, so, so, so awful. I might as well have shoved my hand into his chest and ripped out his bloody, beating heart, tossed it onto his dead brother's grave.
A sound escapes my throat, a sad small sound that echoes the rapid thumping of my heart. I'm not stupid; I know that what just happened is a blessing in disguise. Royal knows the truth, knows that it was me that got this all started in the first place. Hopefully that gets Sully and Brent off the hook for whatever stupid thing it is that they've gone and done.
I lift my head up, my eyes focused on the front door.