I stood and shoved my fingers through my hair, pacing the small room. Her words kept echoing through my skull, every soul-destroying, heart-breaking fucking word.
Pierce Carson had blackmailed and repeatedly raped her. Abused a young defenseless girl, his own stepdaughter.
I sucked in a sharp breath. The motherfucker was a dead man.
Shit, I felt like I was suffocating. I needed goddamn air. I strode to the door and pushed it open. Neco, Jude, and Van were still there. I caught my brother's eyes, tilting my head to Lulu's room, silently asking him to watch her, and strode down the hall.
I walked out the main doors, out into the dark parking lot, and rested my hands against the brick wall, breathing heavily, sucking back oxygen in an effort to cool the hell down. But nothing could do that, not now that I knew what Lulu had been through, what Pierce had done to her.
A roar exploded past my lips and I plowed my fist into the wall, slamming into it over and over again.
I couldn't hurt the man who deserved it, couldn't smash his face until he was so fucked up he was bloody and unrecognizable. But I had to hit something, needed to release the rage pressing down on me from all sides.
Someone grabbed me from behind and tried to pull me back, but I was too far gone. I shoved them off and kept on throwing punches. I was jerked back suddenly, and Jude threw me on my back.
Neco got in my face. "Calm the fuck down before security comes. You want them to kick you out of the hospital?"
"I'm going to kill him," I growled.
Neco didn't need me to elaborate. They might not have known the details, all that Lulu had been through yet, but they knew who had put her in that hospital bed. My friend's face was grim as he dipped his chin. "We'll get him, brother."
I wouldn't be happy until I heard Pierce's screams of pain ringing in my ears.
"The insurance payout Pierce got when he torched that building was substantial, but he chewed through it within a year." Neco watched me carefully, trying to read me, no doubt worried I'd flip the fuck out again. He'd been doing that the last two days, since my meltdown outside the hospital.
I clenched my fist and pain shot through my hand, a twisted reminder of the hell I planned to rain down on Pierce. If Jude hadn't thrown me down when he had my fist would be pulp. My rage was still as strong-shit, stronger.
Neco shook his head. "Hunt, man. I need you to focus."
"I'm listening."
The guy didn't look convinced. I didn't blame him.
We'd discovered that Pierce had pissed away the money that came to him when he married Lulu's mom-both the inheritance and life insurance she'd gotten when her husband died, then what she'd gotten from her parents when they'd passed. One bad investment after the other and living beyond his means had chewed through the lot. He'd had nothing left. In desperation, he'd torched one of his own properties and framed me, as a scapegoat and way to get me out of Lulu's life. Before she ran, he forced Lulu to sign her trust fund over to him as well.
He'd quickly grown a reputation for bad business practices, for underhand tactics, as someone that couldn't be trusted. Doors had closed. He'd screwed himself.
Elizabeth's family had been keeping them afloat, giving them a generous monthly allowance, which was the only reason Pierce had stuck around I was sure . . . that and his sick obsession with Lulu. But now Elizabeth was sick, and wasn't going to get better, and Pierce was MIA, so the family had cut him off.
It seemed Pierce had nothing left and nowhere to go.
"Drugs, right?" I knew from my time working with Pierce that he'd dipped his toes in those murky waters, but it had still only been small-time. I also knew the guy had serious delusions of grandeur. He'd wanted to get into bed with the big boys, but the big boys hadn't been in the mood to play the field. Until recently.
"Word is, Pierce made nice with the right people, found a supplier willing to work with him," said Neco. "He took this to Mendoza, made a deal. But Pierce didn't make the delivery. One of his men took off with the shipment and cashed in, fucked Pierce over in a big way. Mendoza wanted what he was owed, or his money back with interest. Pierce didn't have either."
"He paid Mendoza anything?"
Neco shook his head. "Understandably, Mendoza is not happy and has his army turning this city inside out searching for him."
I didn't need to ask how Neco knew the details of Pierce's financial history, or how he had the inside scoop on one of the scariest motherfuckers in this city. There was no Internet security system that the guy couldn't hack into, and Tomas Mendoza was from our neighborhood. He was a little older than Van, but Tomas had been one of us.
Where we were from, what we'd grown up around? A blatant disregard for the law just came with the territory.
There were ties between us that would always remain, whether we wanted them or not. I didn't like the way the man made his living, dealing drugs and peddling flesh, but those ties could also be useful. Neco had worked for him for a time, and when Nec decided on a career change, the relationship had remained civil. At the end of the day, we came from the same shitty streets, and that meant something to a man like Mendoza.
"Now he needs the painting to save his ass," I said. Lulu had told us how Pierce thought she had it, how bad he wanted it. We'd assumed Robert, Pierce's brother, had it all this time. Lulu had no idea where it was, and we had no leads, no clue to what had happened to it. Which meant Pierce was getting desperate. He'd obviously planned on doubling his money, selling privately as well as getting a fat payment from union City Insurance. Now the asshole was wanted by police, which meant he couldn't get into his bank accounts when, and if, the payment came through. We already knew what the motherfucker was capable of, but backed into a corner like this, shit, who knew what he'd try next.
"We need to find the painting before he does," I said. He'd blow out of town faster than we could blink. I wasn't letting him get away from me. "Maybe it's time we brought Robert in. Asshole has to know something."
Neco shook his head. "Robert and his wife have left the country. Extended vacation. Fucker knows his brother only has two roads outta this mess-a body bag or behind bars. Turns out Robert's not as stupid as we thought."
Fuck.
"You think Pierce is in deeper than we thought?" It wouldn't surprise me if Tomas wasn't the only one Pierce had breathing down his neck.
"Could be. I'll keep digging." Neco leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. "Maybe we should leave him to Tomas. Let him flush him out. The guy doesn't like being made a fool of."
I shook my head. "We keep looking."
"Had a feeling you'd say that." He held my gaze. "How's Lulu?"
"As well as can be expected." I'd left her and Josh with Zeke guarding them. I didn't like to leave, but I didn't want her to hear any of this shit. "She's not saying much."
"You've only had her home a day. Give her time."
Everything was out in the open now. Neco, Jude, Zeke, and my brother, they knew why she did what she had, what Pierce did to her. And they were almost as hungry for the man's blood as I was. "She's not getting it yet, why she's there, but she will."
Neco dipped his chin. "I have no doubt, brother." The guy's phone started up in his pocket and he cursed when he checked the screen.
"Trouble?"
Neco's eyes darkened. "With a capital R."
"Ruby?"
My friend growled.
Our receptionist managed to get herself in a lot of shit, often, and it was Neco she called to bail her ass out. Me, Van, Neco, had all known her since she was in pigtails and had training wheels on her bike. She'd lived in the house right across from my best friend growing up. We'd all known her stepmother was a twisted bitch. So, we'd tried to look out for her, especially Neco. But he was still doing it now. He also let her get away with a lot of shit, shit anyone else sure as hell wouldn't. Ruby seemed to enjoy taking advantage of that. Either that, or she'd made it her personal mission to make the guy fucking crazy.
"You need backup?"
Head down, busy firing back a text, he shook his head. "I got it. Go home to your girl."
Thirty minutes later, I was at the door to my apartment. Unlocking it, I walked inside. The place was open, big. Van hadn't needed me to spell it out, had worked out that I'd had enough of cramped, small spaces to last me a lifetime. It was a great apartment. Open, warehouse-style, but with two bedrooms at the back.
Zeke was sitting at the breakfast bar when I walked in. "You stayin'?" he asked.
"Yeah."
Zeke gave me a chin lift, slid off the stool and left.
It was late. The place was quiet, light from the city washing the room with muted color. Zeke had been sitting in the dark, TV off, fully alert, all senses focused on keeping my woman and son safe. An example of why I'd trust any one of the guys at the agency with my life, as well as those I cared about.