Cora. Cora. I’m so sorry, my love.
When the garage door closed, Damen told him to get out.
Demarco debated whether he should try to fight his brother now. Growing up, Damen had been the tougher one. Demarco was more academic and had no taste for violence.
He went into the house and saw another man there. Damen’s mysterious friend, Tony.
“We have more trouble,” that one said.
“What are you two up to?” Demarco asked.
“He’s the one who’s going to make me a lot of money. If you’d have kept your nose out of my affairs, you’d have reaped some benefits of that.”
“Hurry up with him, we need to get going,” Tony said.
“Where to?”
“Adam had a break-in at his house.”
That stopped Damen short. “Who would do that?”
“Has to be Maguire and that Ivy woman. They’re getting too close, Damen. It’s time to take care of them once and for all.”
Damen swore a few times. Giving Demarco a shove, he said, “In the basement.”
Demarco went to the stairway door, which was open, and went down the stairs. Tony followed.
“Was anything missing?” Damen asked.
“No, but Adam said he thinks someone was on his computer. We have to assume they know.”
Damen spat out more curses.
In the basement, Demarco saw that Damen had been busy remodeling. He’d constructed a square room out of plywood and put in an iron-bar door with a padlock on it. There was a twin bed inside, and the room had been built off the bathroom.
How considerate of his twin.
Demarco turned to face Damen. “What do they know?”
“In the room.” He pointed with his gun.
“Damen, there’s no need to lock me up.”
“It’s either that or Tony here is going to kill you.”
Tony folded his arms. “That’s what we should have done already.”
“See?” Damen said. “I’m saving your life by doing this.”
If Demarco was locked in this room, his chances of escape were dismal. Hitting Damen’s wrist, he shoved him into Tony and made a run for it. He charged up the stairs. On the last step, someone grabbed his ankle and he fell onto the kitchen floor. Rolling to his side, he saw that it was Tony. Demarco kicked his face with his other foot. That sent him backward and loosened his hold.
Demarco got to his feet and ran through the house. Tony was on his heels.
At the front door, Demarco had the handle in his hand when Tony grabbed him and threw him away. Sprawled on the living room floor, Demarco saw Tony pull out a gun.
All he could do was watch, waiting for a bullet.
“Wait!” Damen shouted. “Don’t shoot him.”